Blood Spilt in Paradise
by SUPRNTRAL LVR
Summary: Rory runs into some trouble while Amy's swept up with a certain charismatic Time Lord. And with his attackers believing him to be the Doctor, and wanting information, things are going to get ugly... Contains limp, whump and angst
1. Eden

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**So, I don't watch Doctor Who avidly. Just seen a couple of episodes - okay, a few - and kind of like Rory's character. He always seems to end up in the worst possible situation. Which got me thinking; we all know Amy and Rory are forever, that he'll always be there for her, but sometimes she seems to forget that. And what if there came a time when she, off with the Doctor on a wild adventure, wasn't there to help when things went wrong?**

**Like I said, I'm not a Who Boff, so please forgive me if I get any technical mumbo-jumbo mixed up. This is set sometime before The God Complex I suppose, somewhere around there...**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, and definite whump in later chapters. See any kind of pairing you like in it. Not sure if I'll continue this yet, so we'll just wait and see how it works out :)**

"What do you think?"

Amy Pond pushed her long, red hair back out of her face and fixed her hazel eyes on the horizon, a slow smile spreading over her face as she did so. From their viewpoint - the protruding lip of a cliff between the edge and a large forest of silver, skeletal trees - the valley below was revealed in the light of the rising sun in all its magnificence and glory. A shimmering lake, sprawling emerald fields, and a small village were framed by great dark mountains, jagged stone crystals arching out of the grass and stretching towards the sky. As she drank in the sight, a strange winged creature flitted past her, feathery wings and long lizard tail a flurry of movement, its wide eyes and tiny pink nose rendering it too cute to be alarming. A sweet smell brushed at her alongside the warm breeze, a smell somewhere between honeysuckle and lavender, and mown grass, and everything... She cast her gaze once more over the golden sky before turning, shooting a smile at the man who leaned against the TARDIS' brilliant blue doors, one hand fingering the edge of his bow tie, a smug grin flickering at his lips. She shrugged.

"It's okay," she said flippantly.

The Doctor let out a bark of laughter, pushed away from the doors. "Amelia Pond," he exclaimed, striding over to her and clapping a hand on her shoulder, drawing her tightly against him. She felt her heart leap with that familiar lurch of excitement as he gestured widely at the valley, his voice loud and incredulous. "This, Pond, _this _is a place renowned throughout the entire galaxy for its beauty, its perfection. The inhabitants of Loiria travel here on a pilgrimage that lasts for a whole third of their lives just to witness its awesomeness. This place has been called the Second Garden of Eden, the Realm of the Angels, the Home of Life. Thousands believe that a glimpse of this horizon has the power to cure disease, to prolong_ life itself._ And all you can say about it is... _it's okay?"_

She returned his mock-horror with a smirk, shrugged out of his grasp and poked him in the ribs. He jumped away, yelping loudly. "I've seen better," she said, arching her eyebrows, challenging him.

"Oh, you have?" the Doctor cried, spreading his arms. "Have you ever seen all the seasons fly past in one single day? One day, Pond, that's how it is here. Right now, it's spring. By eleven o'clock, it will be summer. By four o'clock, autumn. And then winter. And all in _one day._"

"Impossible."

"You watch," he said, tapping her nose with one slender finger. "You - just - watch - Pond."

She couldn't hold back her laughter. There was something in the air here, something in the trees and the mountains that made her feel so peaceful, so bright, so carefree. Or maybe that something was simply the ridiculously excitable, crazy, energetic madman with a box.

A small scuffle from behind her announced Rory's arrival - for the millionth time he had caught his toe on the last step out of the TARDIS, having to grab ungracefully for the doorframe to catch himself. He hurriedly straightened his jacket, perhaps trying to cover up his blunder, but she just shot him a mocking glance. He rolled his eyes.

"I keep forgetting, alright?" he said, moving to her side. "Where are we?"

She slipped her hand into his, rewarded with a pleasantly surprised smile. "No idea," she said. "But it's beautiful."

"It's _called _the planet Julennan," the Doctor interjected. "Only the place renowned throughout the entire galaxy for its... ah, I can't be bothered to say it all again, you can tell him."

Amy dragged her eyes away from the gorgeous sight, fixing them once more on the Doctor. He had been turned to gold in the glittering sunlight, his eyes shimmering with things she could never understand, and some things only she ever would. He caught her eye, and again his lips curved upwards. _I caught you looking, _they said. She shook her head, reached for a question to excuse her stare.

"So, what's the problem here? It all looks perfect."

"No problem, as such," the Doctor replied, pushing his hands into his pockets and rocking up onto the balls of his feet and back again. "Just got a message last night, that's all. Very garbled, some rubbish about an urgent matter, needing to see me at once. Although I very much doubt anything serious could go wrong on Julennan."

"Careful," Rory warned, wincing. "Don't say that, something's bound burst into flames now."

"Brighten up, Rory," Amy scolded. "Look at this place! We deserve a trip like this. This place is... well, just look."

He softened under her wonder at the sights, and that look crept into his face again. The same look he had worn when he saw her in that museum for the first time in two thousand years. The same look as when he had kissed her at their wedding under the flickering lights of the dance. An old look, one she was used to, one she recognized and dismissed within the same second by now. She span around, flicked her hair back over her shoulder.

"Well, are we going down?"

The Doctor raised a finger. "Ah, well, _I'm _going down. You'll have to wait here."

"What?"

"Promised River Song I'd give her a ring next time I touched down here, sent a message to her the other night. She'll be arriving in an hour or so."

"But..." Amy looked from the sparkling valley to the Doctor and back again, her brow furrowed in disbelief. "But... You can't be serious! You can't just skip off before the rest of us, it's not fair!"

"Somebody has to wait for River," the Doctor said, shrugging. "I can't, I promised I'd respond to that message as soon as I could. So..."

Amy's face fell. There was a short pause.

"Oh, just go," Rory said, and she turned, her eyes lighting up once more. She squeezed his hand, hesitating.

"Really? You can wait on your own?"

His lips twisted a little before forming a rather grimacing smile. "Yeah," he said. "Go on. If it makes you happy. I'll follow with River when she gets here."

Amy let out a little squeal of delight, threw her arms around his neck. His shoulders relaxed under the embrace and he gave her a kiss on the cheek before releasing her. She rushed over to join the Doctor, her face glowing.

"Just... Just no funny business, yeah? Doctor?" Rory called after them as they strode off towards the smooth wooden steps that curved down the face of the cliff to the valley below.

"Yeah," Amy called absently.

"What funny business?" the Doctor threw over his shoulder.

Amy linked her arm through his, a rush of exhilaration shooting through her veins. By the time Rory had called 'Be careful', the two of them had already vanished down the steps. They took them two at a time, each as excited as the other.

"I haven't been here for ages!" the Doctor cried as they neared the bottom. "Good old Julennan! All that energy in the air, all this change! Kind of like one of those ball things, you know, those hanging metal balls, and you take one and knock the others and they keep on going and going in rhythm. No, not like that at all, like a chicken and an egg, continuously born and laying and born and laying..."

"Is that what the all-the-seasons-in-a-day thing is?"

"Nope, nothing like that!"

They reached the spongy grass and set off across the fields towards the village, every step sending a great surge of scents into the air. An odd, three-legged creature with large ears took fright at their approach and bounded away, long tail snapping from side to side. Amy watched it go, its small horns set alight by the sun.

"It's all so..."

She couldn't think of the right word. But then, she never really had to with the Doctor. He cast her a wide grin, as dazzling as the sun, knowing at once what she was trying to say. As they neared the gates of the village, Amy felt the wild buzz in her heart die a little. Soon, it wouldn't just be them. Soon, she'd have to share him again. When all she really wanted was to lie down in one of these fields and stare up at the sky and make shapes out of the clouds with him, her Doctor, and let the seasons flow past around them. When he was around, nothing else really seemed to matter. When he got that smile on his face, that excitement in his limbs, that electricity in his eyes, she knew that the rest of the world would be lost to her. It was as if he knew how to light a fire in her chest, a fire that could send her spiraling back to her childhood, before everything went wrong. Back to when it was all games, when it was all surprises, when it was all innocent. She only wished that those moments could last forever.

* * *

><p>Rory sat on the threshold of the TARDIS, chin in hand, staring out at the massive expanse of sky before him. Towards the horizon it was gold and yellow, further up it became a darker blue, and directly above - if he craned his neck back - it was a deep purple. It was all very beautiful. If he hadn't been sulking, he probably would have appreciated it all a little more. But, as things were, he wasn't in the mood to gaze at flowers and weird furry insects. His sub-conscious was pawing insistently at that door in his mind, the one that sent him back into two thousand years of waiting, of protecting, of enduring... At times like these, those memories seemed to come an awful lot easier than they did when she was smiling at him. But when she did <em>that, <em>it wasn't all so simple.

It was ridiculous, really. Time and again she had chosen him, singled out him, gazed at him with something that simply couldn't be faked. He knew that she loved him. He knew it when he lay down to sleep beside her every night, knew that she would roll over and curl into his side and lace her fingers between his, plant a kiss on his knuckles, mumble a random train of thought before dropping off to sleep. He knew it when he woke up and she had shifted, sometimes to press her cheek against his arm, sometimes with an arm flung across his chest, sometimes with her hair tickling his neck. He knew it when she took his hand and looked at him in the way only she could - laughing at his awkwardness and yet at the same time letting him know that he was perfect just as he was. The only time he faltered in 'knowing it' was when she did '_that'. _When the Doctor gave her a simple, casual choice, completely aware that she would always drop her husband's arm to take the alien's hand. Or when the two of them shared a look, a laugh, a comment that Rory had no place in, that was something sacred and private. Or when she blushed briefly with pride if the Doctor complimented her, cheeked her, paid her special attention...

Yes, those were the kinds of moments that made Rory sit down and sulk when he could just as easily have written River a note telling her to join them in the valley and dashed off to find the others.

He rubbed his hand over his face, threw a glance at his watch - he had been waiting nearly half an hour - and then pushed himself to his feet and wandered over to the edge of the cliff, peering over it at the sheer drop into the valley below. He could no longer see Amy and the Doctor - he had watched the two of them cross the fields to the village gates, watched them welcomed in by a surprised woman wearing a mint-green dress. He hadn't seen them since. He could never tell if that was good news or bad. He folded his arms, shook his head, tried to turn his thoughts to something else. He knew he was being stupid. If he wasn't jealous, he was worrying; if he wasn't worrying, he was feeling rejected. He was sure she didn't do it on purpose, but... no. He was lucky enough to have her at all, to be able to feature in her wild and frenzied life. To just be with her when he could should be enough for him.

He turned and walked back to the TARDIS, scuffing his shoes on the grass. No, he wouldn't think about it anymore. It wasn't doing anyone any good.

Even if she could have offered to stay with him and sat and waited for River with him, let the Doctor out of her sight just for a moment...

A sudden, sharp sting in his neck brought him sharply out of the circular pattern of thoughts he was rapidly falling into, and his hand leaped unconsciously to swat at the area. One of those bugs. Of course, even in the so-called 'Second Garden of Eden', there had to be wasps. His fingers brushed against something rigid and thin, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. So the thing - whatever it was - had left its stinger behind in his skin. Wonderful. Sighing, he returned to the TARDIS and crossed to the control panel, retrieving one of Amy's compact mirrors she had left balanced on an important-looking lever. He angled it at the side of his neck, twisting his head awkwardly to see. Some kind of small, black thing. If he could just get a good look... he glanced around briefly, wandering why River was taking so long. Perhaps the Doctor had planned all this, perhaps she wasn't coming at all, and he and Amy had just run off to elope together... the thought made him snigger, and shudder.

He was still trying to angle the mirror at the stinger in his neck when the whole world suddenly titled violently, and he staggered. Panic snapped through him - was the cliff collapsing, the TARDIS malfunctioning, the sky falling? - but quickly died when he looked around to see everything perfectly normal. He frowned, confused, and took a step towards the console. Instantly his right leg trembled, buckled, sent him stumbling towards the railing. He managed to steady himself before he reached it, his heart hammering in his chest as a cool sweat broke out on his upper lip. Every instinct screamed at him that something was very, very wrong, if only he could figure out just what exactly... and why those black dots were suddenly dancing before his eyes... and why his chest was growing tight...

He didn't feel the mirror slip from his hand, but he heard it shatter as it landed. The sound, strangely loud in his pounding head, seemed to clear his vision momentarily. Or at least long enough for him to see that a tall figure had appeared in the doorway. For a second, he thought it was River. But then he saw the glint of a rifle, saw two or three others stepping up to the doors. The image blurred and shifted as he struggled to focus, and it took him a few minutes to comprehend that those people were not the Doctor, or Amy, or River, or anyone who was just passing by for a cup of tea and a biscuit... The revelation sent a jolt of shock through him and he flinched backwards. His right leg gave out once more, this time growing completely numb, and the next second he was falling. A sickening _crack _snarled in his ears as the back of his head collided sharply with the glass floor, and at once everything grew foggy and grey...

Blinking had never felt like such an effort. He thought he should stay awake, but the ceiling of the TARDIS was melting and shivering before his darkening eyes. He could hear himself gasping, feel something wet and warm spreading over the back of his head and neck. _Head wounds bleed a lot _was his last thought before a face cloaked by a scarf appeared above him and everything went totally and utterly black.

**Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading.**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	2. Faceless

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, and definite whump in later chapters. See any kind of pairing you like in it.**

"It's River."

The Doctor looked up, his large triangular hat sliding to one side. The villagers had bestowed both he and Amy with one of the ridiculous garments as soon as they had appeared; of course, while Amy tugged and pocked at it in confusion the Doctor threw it on as if he had been wearing them all his life. He set down his large, bowl-like cup which was instantly refilled with the strange, bright orange liquid that the villagers seemed so very fond of and reached into his pocket, retrieving his mobile. His eyebrows jumped.

"Oh, yes," he said musingly. "Three missed calls. Who'd have thought?"

Unconcerned, he set the mobile down on the table and turned again to the mayor of the village, conversing quickly in the mother-tongue - a flowing, cool language somewhere between Japanese and French. Rolling her eyes, Amy pulled off her own hat and excused herself from the table, moving away to the window. Out in the street, she could see massive two-legged creatures drawing wooden carts, their clawed feet sending up massive clouds of dust with each step, their yellow beaks pecking at anything on the ground that looked remotely like food. The sight was impossible, something out of a drug-induced dream, but then so was everything else that concerned the Doctor. Amy flipped the screen of her mobile upwards and put it to her ear, grinning as the Doctor let out a muffled exclamation - he must have discovered more of the purple pastries they had been presented with upon their arrival.

"River!" she greeted. "Sorry. The Doctor-"

"Never answers his phone, I know," River replied smilingly. "That horror. Where on earth are you? I've got to the TARDIS. You could've left me a note or something."

"A note?"

"I thought something bad might have happened, what with the doors hanging open like that. But then, this is Eden. Don't suppose you get thieves around here."

River broke off with a laugh, but Amy was still processing what she had just said. "Wait, wait," she said, casting a glance over her shoulder at the Doctor, still engrossed in conversation. "Rory's waiting for you there, the Doctor and I went on ahead. He said he'd wait. He should be there..."

"Rory's here?" There was the sound of footsteps on muffling grass, the bang of the TARDIS' door. "I looked all over the TARDIS, I couldn't find anyone. Maybe... No, he's not outside either."

"Oh." Amy frowned. "He must have followed us."

"Not like Rory to just leave the TARDIS unlocked," River replied. "He's not usually so..."

Her voice trailed off into nothing. Amy waited, but heard nothing but a short gasp, then a quiet crunch. "What is it? River? Are you still there?"

A scrabbling sound. Then River's voice returned, slightly higher than usual, with a tremor in her tone that instantly made Amy's skin prickle.

"How far away are you and the Doctor? You need to come back here now."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't think I know exactly, but..."

Another long pause. Amy span on her heel, strode over to the Doctor, plucked at his sleeve. He turned, scowling at her interruption, but his face changed when he noticed her expression. She gestured to the door and he rose, loudly thanking the villagers for their hospitality, promising to return just as soon as he'd had a word with his friend outside, something might have come up... She only cared about what was happening on the other end of the line, where River was still hesitating in a way that River never usually hesitated.

"Tell me, now," she insisted as she stepped out into the street. "What? River, _what _have you found?"

She heard River take a breath, let it out in a soft _woosh_. She heard the squeak of boots on the glass floor of the TARDIS.

"There's... there's blood on the floor, Amy. Quite a bit of blood."

Amy froze. The Doctor was by now bobbing up and down beside her, trying to catch her eye, trying to mouth to her 'What's going on?' She let him take the mobile, her fingers fumbling, suddenly numb to the core. River's words echoed in her head. _There's blood... quite a bit... _And somehow she knew that this hadn't been a simple accident. Somehow she knew that everything had gone to hell, that her world had completely turned upside down within a couple of terrifying seconds. The Doctor's face was lined, his brow furrowed, his eyes suddenly dark.

"Where are you?" and then "We're coming, stay there," was all he said before lowering the phone and snatching up her hand, pulling her back through the village towards the cliff where they had left Rory and the TARDIS. It all seemed like so little time had passed since she had turned her back on him and dashed off after the Doctor. How much time had even passed? How had she not noticed that it was taking far, far to long for him to contact her? She didn't know the answers to those questions, and she didn't want to know. So, instead, she focused on running,

By the time they reached the wooden steps and had climbed them back up to the TARDIS, her imagination had run wild and dragged her through a thousand possibilities of what might have happened. She alternated wildly between chiding herself for worrying and being certain that it was all fuss over nothing, that Rory was fine, and between a heart-stabbing, gut-wrenching fear that something horrible had happened. River was waiting for them, arms folded, her lips tight. The Doctor stopped, dropping Amy's hand as they reached her, but Amy simply ducked past her and raced into the great blue box. She wanted to call out for him, but her throat felt too dry, too shrunken. She bounded up the steps and circled the console twice, spinning to look in every possible direction, every shadow, every corner. No Rory. No Rory... River and the Doctor appeared at the door, River leading the way and pointing to something.

"It's there," she said. "We shouldn't touch anything, maybe we can figure out what happened..."

That was the moment that Amy's whole world seemed to stop dead, that any sound around her blinked out into nothing, that her whole mind became deaf to everything. River was still speaking, addressing the Doctor, who was waving his sonic screwdriver in the air in the hope of picking up traces of anyone that had entered the TARDIS recently. Amy had forgotten that either of them even existed. She couldn't tear her eyes from the ugly puddle of blood on the floor, her hands clenching so tightly at her sides that her palms began to sting. She crouched down, her boots crunching on the broken mirror, and stared at the cracked glass, the glimmer of light as it bounced off the crimson stain. She didn't touch it, couldn't make herself move any closer. She simply stared. She didn't realize that his name had actually left her lips in a shuddering breath until River's hand came down on her shoulder.

"It's okay, he'll be fine," she was saying loudly, even though her own voice sounded forced and small. "He's probably just tried to find you, got confused. He'll be sitting outside behind the TARDIS trying to work out what his name is."

"No."

Amy turned sharply, the Doctor's murmured phrase snapping through the air like a gunshot. She rose shakily to her feet, holding his gaze, pure terror beginning to beat in her veins.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

The Doctor lifted his screwdriver, his face grim. "Traces of foreign cells," he announced. "Somebody - quite a few somebodys - have been here."

"And they took him."

River took her arm as the short, trembling statement flew from her lips. Amy shook her off, lifting her hands to her face. She turned away, struggling to hold back tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. How could anybody hurt Rory? Gentle, calm, stupid, sweet Rory? What if even now he was lying somewhere in the depths of those dark woods, still bleeding, surrounded by shadowed assailants? The images swarmed in on her mind, unthinkable, unbearable, too awful to even form fully before she had to force them away. Her Rory... in seconds she was on her knees in the dirt again, running her hands through his short hair, begging him not to leave her as time ebbed out of the Crack in the Wall...

_"We were on the hill..."_

"Amy. Amy!"

She blinked, lowered her hands to find the Doctor's face inches from her own. He was grasping her tightly by the shoulders, staring into her face with wide, earnest eyes.

"We're going to find him, Amy," he said clearly, holding her gaze. "He'll be alright."

She managed to nod, not quite believing him. But god, she had to try. All those times Rory had come back for her, every time he had sacrificed something... well, now it must be her turn.

"Hate to interrupt," River spoke up suddenly, "But I think I've found something."

She was standing by the door, and had pulled a large piece of paper from the back of the TARDIS' window. She held it up for them to see. Amy could read the large, bold lettering from across the room.

_WE HAVE THE DOCTOR. THE TARDIS IS OURS NOW. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT._

The note was followed by a strange symbol - a circle with a jagged line cutting through it diagonally.

"What does it mean?"

"It means," the Doctor replied softly, "That this has nothing to do with somebody trying to hurt Rory. It means that somebody is after me."

"But who?"

He didn't reply. The door creaked sullenly in the long, heavy silence that followed.

* * *

><p>In Year 6, way, way back in primary school when he had still had hair that reached his chin and had just started to fall head over heels for Amy without even realizing it, Rory Williams had climbed the tall tree at the end of the fiery girl's garden. It had been a dare, a challenge, and having let them make a fool of him for the past few hours as he hid under the stairs while Amy and Mel hung out in her bedroom, chatting and laughing, he had been willing to do anything at all to redeem himself. Anything to make himself seem just a little bit reckless, just a bit wild - like Amy and Mel were every day. The two girls trailed after him leisurely as he strode out to the garden, stood in the shadow of the giant tree. He had suddenly felt unbearably self conscious in his too-big, hand-me-down shirt and his scuffed trainers, his ears burning as Mel let out a laugh and nudged Amy.<p>

"He'll never do it. You'll never do it, Rory."

Rory swallowed hard, pushed back his sleeves which promptly dropped down over his hands again. He stepped up to the tree, placed a foot on the bucket lying next to it to boost himself upwards. The tree's trunk was mossy and strangled with ivy, its great arms twisted over each other and buckled beneath the weight of a thousand feather-light leaves. He grabbed the closest handful of wiry ivy vines. He pulled himself on.

"Ror-ry!" Amy now, her tone condescending. He could see her without even looking; folded arms, eyes cast skywards, head shaking slowly. "Come down, stupid. Mel's only joking."

If anything, that made his defiance even stronger. Only joking because she knew he would never be able to do it. Well, he'd show her. He'd make it to the very top, and he'd wave down at them, and Amy's face would shine with wonder and disbelief. He kept going, hooked one arm over the first large branch, managed to heave himself up onto it. His knees shook as he tried to regain his balance, suddenly feeling sick at the height he had already traveled. Below, Amy was still shouting up at him, her voice suddenly losing its patronizing tone and taking on an air of real concern.

"Rory!"

"He can't be serious."

"Rory, come down!"

He felt for a hand-hold, pushed up again. And again. His trainer slipped on the moss and his heart lurched, but he was holding tight to a branch above his head and managed to save the drop. He wriggled up onto a branch that creaked ominously, dipped beneath his weight. He froze, heard a soft crackling sound. Instinct told him to move; he reached for the trunk, searching for another place to perch higher up. And perhaps he would have made it those last couple of meters to the top of the great tree if the branch beneath him hadn't suddenly given way with a howl of splintering wood, if his hands hadn't lost their grip on the damp moss. As it was, he felt himself suddenly plummeting, yelling, the ground rushing up to meet him, and Amy's voice loud in his ears.

_"Rory!"_

And now, he felt as if he was falling again. He could hear the blood roaring in his ears, the shaky confusion as his mind groped blindly in darkness, felt the stomach-churning rush as he dropped faster and faster and faster through nothingness. Only this time it was a little bit different. This time, there was a throbbing agony in his head that kept growing bigger with every second. This time, he could hear his own breaths heaving in quiet, shuddering gasps.

Something collided sharply with his face, and just like that he had hit the ground. In Amy's garden he had earned himself a nasty sprained ankle for his heroic attempt; now, he found that he couldn't move his arms or legs at all. His head was spinning wildly, nausea rising its ugly head in his gut. He was certain that he could hear Amy's footsteps drumming on the earthen ground, hear Mel crying out in surprise, he was sure he was about to sit up with tears of surprise pooling in the corners of his eyes to find Amy's face inches from his own, her eyes wide with fear-

"I said, wake _up._"

A second blow struck and he tasted blood. The coppery, metallic liquid pooling in his mouth gave him a mental shake, jerked him back to reality with a surge of confusion. His eyes opened and focused blearily on the dark, faceless thing looming over him, fist pulled back and ready to strike again... With a yelp, Rory tried to leap up, but found himself held in place by large metal cuffs that clenched over his wrists and shins. Several things hit him at once - he was strapped to a metal chair, he was in a dark room, he was surrounded by strangers, there was blood dripping from his lip and - most important of all - he couldn't see Amy anywhere. He didn't know where he was. He made another attempt to get up, his eyes snapping back to the figure in front of him. The humanoid - he'd learned not to take for granted that anyone he encountered on his travels with the Doctor was human - was wearing boots and a heavy combat jacket with a hood pulled up. A strange grey mask covered his face from the nose down, vertical metal slats providing access to air. Reflective goggles hid the eyes, and the little skin Rory could see was pale in contrast to all the dark, a dirty, slightly off-colour white.

Rory flinched violently away from the gloves hands that grabbed his face, angled it towards the light so that he could be studied. He could see his own reflection in the large bug-eye goggles, see his own panic and terror.

"Awake," the figure reported, straightening up and stepping back. Rory had the chance to run his eyes over the room briefly - there were six of them, all dressed the same, all wearing those masks. One stepped forwards with an air of authority, identifying itself as the leader of the pack. Rory looked it up and down, still trying to tear his hands out of their cuffs, his throat dry with fear.

"At last you return," the leader said. Its voice was crackling, as if said through a faulty intercom. "You have been absent from this planet for many years. Too many. Thanks to your intrusion on your last visit, there are only a small number of our kind left."

"Wh-What?"

Rory's voice sounded faint and shaky to his own ears, but he couldn't think clearly enough to try again. His brain wouldn't work. Perhaps he should be thinking of some snide remark, some comical retort, but he simply couldn't. He could only stare up at the creature and try his best to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Your face has changed, like they said it would," the leader continued. "We were prepared, we knew how to find you. You didn't expect us did you? You didn't think we would still be here. But we are."

"I... I don't..."

The leader took a step closer, placed one hand on either arm of Rory's chair, and leant forwards. Rory pressed himself back as far as he could, struggling to keep his breathing even. The back of his head seared violently with pain, but he didn't care. He stared into the goggles, gripping the chair tightly.

"We have only one question, Doctor. Tell us how to release our Queens from the prison you threw them into all those years ago."

Rory opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to process the stream of nonsense. Queens, prisons, changing faces? _What?_ He shook his head wordlessly, and the leader cocked its head icily.

"You are going to tell us. You are going to free them. Tell us now and we will make your death swift and painless."

"My _death?"_

"Speak."

"But... I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know you, I don't-"

The leader let go of the chair and instantly everything went a sudden and blinding white. Relentless pain prickled across his skin and screamed in his nerves, burned across his body like fire. He felt his own limbs jerking, felt his lungs clench tightly, thought he might be about to die - and then all at once it stopped, leaving him gasping raggedly for breath, his whole body trembling.

"That was a warning. Continue to defy us, Doctor, and we will not..."

Something clicked in Rory's hazy mind. "Wh-wait... what... _Doctor?"_

"... be so gentle. When you imprisoned our Queens you..."

"You mean you think... I'm not the Doctor! I'm not!"

"... declared war on our race for ever more. We will never give in."

"Stop, just wait!" He tried to look the leader in the eye, his chest still heaving, his hands still shaking violently. "Listen to me, I'm _not _the Doctor. I'm his companion. I am _not _the Doctor."

The leader paused. "You are the Doctor. You have the Blue Ship. You were in it. You were alone."

"I'm his companion!"

"The Doctor's companions are always female."

Rory opened his mouth and then blinked, scowled. "Always...? Oh, I see. Well, anyway, fine, I'm the _companion's _companion then."

The leader snatched hold of the front of his shirt, dragged him forwards. "Stop - playing - games," it growled. "You _are _the Doctor. And you will tell us what we want to know, or we will make you know what hell is."

It let go. Before Rory could speak the unbearable pain had suddenly rushed in on him again, snarling in on him even more terrible than before. He felt his hands claw at the arms of the chair so hard it hurt, felt every muscle twitching madly. Somewhere in this distance he could hear his own voice screaming.

**Dun-dun-daaaah ;)**

**Reviews are welcome, thanks for reading.**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	3. Abandoned

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, and definite whump in later chapters. See any kind of pairing you like in it.**

He didn't know what they had done to him, but he knew that it hurt more than anything he had ever known in his life. It seemed something akin to electrocution in the way it flashed abruptly on and off, and the way the metal cuffs around his wrists soon presented him with raw, angry red burns, but there was something different in the way this made his flesh crawl and burn as if fire was licking across his skin, the way his body kept twitching independently after the initial pain had died, the way a heavy ache remained stubbornly in his limbs. Every shock left him gasping and shaking, as if he had just run a marathon having been starved for a month. He could feel sweat sticking his shirt to his back, trickling down his temples. His head was spinning wildly, and he felt so sick, certain that he was about to throw up. He swallowed hard, and then felt a fist clench in his hair and force his head backwards.

He knew what was coming, but that didn't stop him from yelping as a fist hit him once, twice and then one last time before the hands let go. The world vanished and then came thudding back again, giving him a view of the ground between his feet. Blood mixed with saliva was dripping, hanging, swinging from his mouth. He blinked, becoming aware of the moans drifting from his own mouth, and quickly pressed his lips together. At the start, he had been intent on keeping a poker face, on never letting a single sound escape him, on being the stoic hero and never letting them know that they were getting to him. After all, that's what it was like in movies wasn't it? Only, when it happened in real life, it wasn't so much about being the strong hero as it was just trying to keep any kind of grip on reality. While in the movies the guy always escapes with a trademark split lip, Rory was pretty sure that he was going to come out of this in pieces. The whole left side of his face was now throbbing violently, something warm trickling into one eye. He wearily tried to spit out some of the blood, heaved his head up enough to squint up at the black-clad people conversing quietly in the corner.

Their leader was wiping blood from its knuckles, watching him with a vague air of growing frustration.

"You must know that you have no chance, Doctor," it said in a low voice. "You were alone in your Blue Ship, there will be nobody coming for you."

Rory tried to speak, but the words got lost somewhere between his throat and the air. All he could do was rasp, snatching shallow breaths as he struggled.

"This can go on for as long as you want it to. This, what you are feeling now, will not end until you tell us what we want to know."

"_Please _l_-_listen," Rory managed to choke out. "I'm _not _what you t-think..."

"Doctor, we are all growing very tired of this."

"_I'm not the Doctor!" _His voice came out in a hoarse scream, filled with hopeless despair.

The leader's dark goggles stared down at him, emotionless, empty. Rory stared back, pleading, begging the humanoid to just try to understand, just believe him a little bit... the leader lifted a hand, attracting the attention of a couple of its associates.

"The Blue Ship," it said. "Go back to it, bring it here. They say the Doctor is very close to his vessel. We'll see whether we can persuade him in some more elaborate ways."

Rory let his head fall back against the chair, squeezing his eyes shut against the throbbing agony in his head. He was doing his best to remember his medical training, remember how important it was to take deep breaths and remain aware, but he could barely even see past the fog whispering across his vision. He swallowed a bitter mouthful of blood, winced at the taste. He heard roughly three of the pack leaving, heard the slam of the door.

For the first time in his life, he was so, so happy that Amy was with the Doctor. Because he knew without a doubt that Amy would be safe as long as the Doctor was there to look after her. He knew the Doctor would defend her as fiercely as Rory would himself... well, _almost_ as fiercely. Because the only way in which this whole situation could be worse would be if they got to her...

* * *

><p>"They're not even bothering to hide."<p>

Amy leapt to her feet as the Doctor reappeared from the village hall. His face still held that murmuring anger that had crept into his expression somewhere between reaching the and finding Rory's blood glistening on the floor. It was a strange look, something that didn't quite seem to fit the person the Doctor was supposed to be. It was a look that reminded Amy why so many civilizations across the universe were so very afraid of him.

It was nearing midday, and the sun had climbed high into the crystal clear blue sky. Its gentle touch was warm on her skin, just the right temperature, just enough to be perfect. A soft golden summer haze had settled over the world. If anything else had been happening, anything at all, Amelia Pond would have been relaxing in those beautiful fields and enjoying that feeling that can only come on one of those perfect afternoons in the middle of summer when nothing can possibly go wrong... The only problem was that something had gone very wrong, and that perfect sun might as well have been a storm of rain and hail for all the good it was doing. At least River had offered to stay behind with the TARDIS in case anything happened to it, allowing Amy to go with the Doctor back into town to ask about the mysterious note they had found. She couldn't bear to just sit and do nothing, because if she did that then those horrible images of what could be happening to Rory were sure to return. As long as she was doing something, keeping busy, helping, she could stop herself from imagining any of that.

"So you know who 'they' are?" she pressed as the Doctor came closer, his hands pushed deep into his pockets, his eyes narrowed. "You know who took Rory?"

"Apparently, there's only one suspect," the Doctor replied darkly. "The Hive."

Amy blinked. "The Hive? What's the Hive?"

"It was a clan I encountered here before this place became Eden. Back when it was still only known as Julennan, Planet of the Hive."

He took her by the elbow, steering her towards the path back out of the village. She glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of some of the villagers they had met earlier peeking out of the hall behind them, their faces strained and tense. She swallowed hard, the idyllic surroundings of river and fields and sky doing nothing to calm her racing heart.

"Don't tell me we're dealing with killer bees," she murmured.

"No," the Doctor said softly. "Their name was given to them more due to the fact that they follow the same patterns of bees. Long story short, they began to overwhelm all other forms of life on the planet, they started trying to take over. Pure greed. I arrived here thousands of years ago, a different face, a different attitude. I imprisoned their Queens below the ground and I sent their colonies scattered throughout the universe with a warning. I was naive."

"Why?"

He didn't look at her, his lips barely moving as he spoke. "Because I should have killed every last one of them."

She blanched, shocked by the icy, merciless tone that had suddenly taken over his voice. He shot her a short glance, quirked an eyebrow. "The Hive never forgets. And it seems what few of them have survived have been waiting for me for quite some time. I believe they're looking for revenge - either that or they want their Queens released."

"But it was all so long ago."

"The Hive and its Queens are rather adept at hibernating. Its one of the reasons their growth was so easy; they bred millions of offspring underground and let them all out at once in a single, impenetrable wave."

Amy's mind was going over something he had said before, something that was flashing in her head and sending shivers down her spine. "Doctor? You said... you said they might want... revenge."

The Doctor stopped, turning to look her in the face. They were a short distance away from the village by now, standing among the gorgeous fields of strange flowers and crops. He took hold of her hands in both of his, cocking his head until she was finally forced to look him in the eye, forced to reveal the tears welling up in her own. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand.

"Amy, we are going to get him back. Rory Pond is going to be fine. I swear to you."

She nodded, but had to drop his gaze. How could he be so sure? Rory had been gone hours by now, anything could have happened. The Doctor turned her around, pointed at the craggy mountains rising up behind the village.

"You see those? The villagers say that what remains of the Hive is up there somewhere. They made no attempt to hide from us; they think they've captured me, and therefore have nothing to fear. So all we have to do is track them down, find Rory, and execute a simple rescue mission. Easy."

She nodded again, eyes on the floor, brushing at her cheeks. She felt his eyes on her, heard him heave a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Amy, I really am. But I promise I will make this right."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his mobile phone. If she had been in a better mood she might have joked that this had to be a record - the Doctor using a mobile phone twice in one day? It was unheard of. He dialed and there was a short pause before he spoke.

"River? Yes, I believe we can start getting a plan together. Bring the TARDIS down to the woods at the bottom of the mountains to the North, Amy and I will meet you there."

* * *

><p>Rory thought he must have either fallen asleep or passed out, because the next second the door was flying open with a deafening crash and he was jolting back into awareness, the flinch sending a wave of agony through his whole body. He struggled to suppress a groan of pain, squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to control the rising wave of nausea in his stomach. Across the room were raised voices, although it took a couple of minutes for his foggy mind to process what they were all saying.<p>

"... there, Comrade. We scanned the whole area, there was no sign of the Blue Ship."

"It can't be gone, there is none other here who knows how to fly it!"

"Comrade, we heard it's call as we drew near. The Ship is gone."

Rory's brain ran over that sentence a few times before it really sank in. _Gone. The Ship is gone. _He felt something freeze in his chest, felt his breathing stop. Wait, _gone? _The TARDIS had vanished? Which meant that the Doctor and Amy must have discovered his absence and had... had left. Everything inside him was screaming for it to be a mistake, for it to be some kind of joke, but really it all made perfect sense. The Doctor had found danger on this planet, people who wanted him dead. So, naturally, he had got as far away as he possibly could and had taken Amy with him to keep her safe. Rory knew he should be thankful but all he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears, hear his heart hammering. No, no, no, _no. _They couldn't have just left him like that, they wouldn't have...

The leader suddenly reappeared, snatching him by his collar and dragging him forwards until the cuffs grated painfully against his raw wrists. Rory scrabbled to pull away, but the abrupt movement had sent his head spinning again and he could barely even focus on the figure standing over him, pushing its face up against his own.

"Where is it?" the leader hissed, hardly containing its rage. "Your Blue Ship, Doctor, _where is it?"_

"The D-Doctor. He t-took it an left."

"_No."_

The leader thrust him back violently and tore an oddly shaped handgun from its belt, leveling it at Rory's head. Rory sucked in a sharp gasp, his hands clenching on the arms of his chair. He stared at that dark barrel, imagined the flash of light and sudden pain before death, wondered if it would hurt...

"You're lying to me. Tell me what you did to make it move."

Rory just shook his head, his mouth too dry and his head too unsteady to even hope to respond. Another of the group suddenly ran forwards and placed a hand on the left side of his chest, then on the right, then on the left again. Rory stiffened uncertainly, but the next second the figure had whirled away to face the leader, hands balled into fists.

"Comrade..."

"_What?"_

"This man... he only has one heart."

There was a deafening silence. Rory was sure he should be feeling relieved that somebody had finally cottoned on, but he felt as if something had broken inside him. He had always feared that they would leave without him, Amy and her Raggedy Doctor flying off into the sunset in the TARDIS together and forgetting he even existed... he had just never believed that they would leave him alone in a place like this. How could she? How could she have left him, knowing that he had been kidnapped by vengeful, angry aliens? God, did she even care? She had probably been relieved that she was finally out of the picture, no longer there to stumble after her and the Doctor, so out of place, so useless, so _stupid _to think she would ever care for him...

He suddenly realized that the group had erupted into a furious fight. The leader was screaming through its mask, waving the gun at everything that moved, stabbing a finger at another of the black-clad figures.

"How could you be so careless?" it was shrieking. "We had to be sure of this! Now the Doctor has escaped! And this could have been our only chance, our only chance _ever _to regain our honor and release our Queens!"

"He was in the Blue Ship, he was alone, we thought-"

_"You were wrong!"_

There was a heavy, stiff pause. Rory felt a wetness on his cheeks. At first he thought it was blood. Then he realized that it was tears. He smothered a sob, furious at himself for being so weak, furious at her for throwing him away so easily. Random flashes of her pulsed through his mind - Amy stretching out a hand to help him up after he had tripped over his shoelaces, he never could tie them in year two; Amy bouncing on the trampoline with Mel in her charcoal school skirt, red hair flying; Amy at Prom night, unbelievably gorgeous in a sleek red dress; Amy's dazzling smile at him after he had got into medical school; the first time they had gone out to dinner together; their first kiss when he had turned the wrong way in the Macarena and found her face right in front of his; the heat of Amy's lips against his own; the electricity of her touch during their first night together; the memory of her sweet, soft smell at their wedding when he had buried his head in her shoulder and danced, holding her as if he would never let go...

_Amy..._

God, how could they have left? How could they have done that to him? After he had waited two thousand years, through war, through famine, through fire and ice, all for her... all for _nothing..._

_"_What about this one?" one of the humanoids was saying, gesturing to him. "The Doctor will come back for him, he never leaves his companions behind."

"He already has." Rory heard his own voice as if it belonged to someone else - distant, low, wavering with suppressed tears and hopelessness. "They're gone."

The leader of the group stormed forwards, still clutching its gun, its goggles glaring down at Rory. "Where has the Doctor gone?"

Rory let out a dull, empty laugh. "How should I know?"

"Tell us _now, _or we will-"

"Don't you understand?" his voice cut through the confusion, silencing his abductors for the first time. "They - are - _gone. _And they're not coming back. It is _all over. _Do you understand what I'm saying? _It's - over."_

The final word had barely left his lips when a gunshot screamed through the stillness. A blinding, terrifying pain exploded in his right leg and he heard himself howl, heard his own gasping cries as he tried to breathe through the agony. He managed to force his eyes open, caught a glimpse of scarlet soaking through the leg of his jeans. He'd just been shot, he realized numbly. Wave after wave of pain rolled over him, the world shuddering a blurring. And then, just as he was beginning to remember how to think again, that searing, blazing shock was back, rippling over his body, stabbing into his chest like a thousand knives, unbearable, sickening agony-

His surroundings faded into a series of faint impressions of things. He thought he remembered the leader ordering a search party to comb the area, make absolutely certain that the Doctor and his Blue Ship was gone. He remembered cracking his eyes open and seeing blood pooling on the floor beneath his chair. He remembered the vague, needle-sharp pain that heaved him in and out of consciousness. He remembered feeling hot and cold at the same time.

He remembered Amy on their wedding night, remember how she had pressed her lips against his and whispered that he was all she would ever want in the world, that he was everything to her...

Out of them all, that last thought was the worst torture he could think of.

**Thanks for reading, reviews are welcome.**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	4. Screams

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, and definite whump in later chapters. See any kind of pairing you like in it.**

**Thanks for the reviews, sorry this has taken a little while to put up. I remembered how to sleep again :) Anywho, onwards...**

Under the afternoon shadows of the silver trees the slender blades of grass were beginning to turn pale blue from their original vibrant green. Amy sat in the threshold of the TARDIS, leaning her forehead against the bright wooden door, staring at her own numb fingers, feeling every second that dragged past as if each was a thousand years long. How much longer would they stay here, hiding in the silver forests at the bottom of those ominous mountains, planning, waiting... waiting for what? She had tried to understand what the Doctor was getting at, but he was currently tapping away at the TARDIS, apparently trying to get through to the Hive, searching for their particular frequency. River was sitting on the stairs with him, offering advice, flipping her small gun between her hands. After circling the TARDIS console for what felt like the hundredth time, Amy had finally given up and escaped to get some air.

Air that was changing. She could feel as she sat and tore her hands through her long red hair, rubbing her forehead wearily. She could feel the temperature slowly but surely dropping, feel the soft chill in the air that hinted at autumn. But still she couldn't make herself focus on the fantastical, sensational alien world around her. All she could think of was Rory. Or, in particular, what River and the Doctor had been discussing in hushed tones just a few minutes ago behind her, in voices they clearly thought she couldn't hear from the doorway.

"These Offspring of the Hive... they have reason to be angry with you, yes?"

A sigh hissed through clenched teeth from the Doctor. "Yes. Lots of reason."

"Would they have wanted to... I mean, if they knew that he wasn't you, would they still... Is their intent to..."

"They will want to kill me, yes," the Doctor said shortly, finally uttering the word she had clearly been having trouble forming. "They _would _have wanted to kill me. Maybe they would want some... answers... first."

"Answers?"

"There are things I know that they could use to return their Hive to its original power."

"I see."

There was a long pause, in which Amy struggled to make her mind process what River was getting at while at the same time trying so very, very hard not to picture the images those words brought up in her head. But it was River's next muttered statement that had really stuck, that was circling around her skull again and again and again even now, the words she thought might stay with her forever. The words that had made her skin prickle and her hands clammy and her heart seize up.

"Do you still have medical supplies lying around here? I'd better get them together."

Perhaps the only thing worse than those words was the silence that followed, the way the Doctor couldn't even reply. As if he was saying 'That's if there's still time to use them'. As if he was saying 'If it's not already too late.' Perhaps if the Doctor still thought there was the chance that they could save him, they might just pull it off. But if even the Doctor had reached that stage when nothing could be done, when everything was over...

She sat and felt dew eating its way through her bright tights. She swept both hands over her face, tried to gauge how well her tears were being hidden by her mascara and eye liner. She wanted to go back in and demand just how much longer the Doctor was going to take over this frequency search lark - this was the TARDIS, couldn't it find a simple radio signal which could only be at most two miles away? - but she couldn't bear to until she had brought her emotions under control again. It wasn't because she was embarrassed; both the Doctor and River were two of the most important people in her life, she trusted them completely and she knew that she could tell them anything. She knew that she could cry in front of them. But not now. Because right now, this was about Rory. Now, she was the one who had to be strong, she was the one who had to wait for him, she was the one who had to grit her teeth and give everything she had. This wasn't the time to sit in a corner and cry and feel sorry for herself.

So, having collected herself as best she could, she rose to her feet, wiped carefully at her eyes, and then turned on her heel and strode back into the TARDIS.

River glanced up as she came back in; the Doctor didn't move at all, attention entirely on the machine he was twiddling and tweaking. Amy climbed the steps to the console, tasting the air thicken with tension as she approached, doing her best to guess the situation from the Doctor's frown. She failed, and eventually cleared her throat softly.

"Anything?"

"Actually," the Doctor said loudly and abruptly, making both Amy and River start, "Yes. I think I have them."

Amy's stomach gave a huge lurch; River stood, her grip tightening on her gun.

"Their base is high in the mountains... River, I'm sending you the co-ordinates now."

"Then let's go-"

"Not yet," the Doctor said sharply as River started for the doors. "First we need to draw them out. There's only one safe path down from their base, and you can't afford to run into them on the way up, or everything's over."

"We can't _wait,_" Amy stuttered. "We've already waited so long! Doctor, you can't ask me to-"

"I'm sorry, Amelia, I have to. I'll send them a message, I'll tell them where I am, I'll tell them to come here. You two will wait in the trees. As soon as they arrive, you'll be clear to go up to their base and get Rory back."

"What about you?"

The question came from River, as did the hesitation. The Doctor glanced at her, offering a small smile for the first time in hours. "I'll be fine, I always am."

She arched an eyebrow, but Amy just nodded. She could believe that the Doctor would escape with some crazy, random plan. She just needed to know Rory was alright. So if the Doctor said he could do it, and to go, she could go.

"Okay, fine. So make the call."

He looked at her for a moment, and something flickered in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. Then he was turning back to the machine and reaching for the intercom, his face darkening. Amy hugged her arms around herself, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm himself as he began to speak.

"Calling the Offspring of the Hive. This is the Doctor. And I believe you've made the mistake of trying to hurt a friend of mine..."

* * *

><p>Rory floated in the area between unconsciousness and awareness with little other than fog in his mind. He was vaguely aware of a throbbing, pulsing agony in his leg, or somewhere near his leg, something that was persistent and angry and venomous and wouldn't let him slip into the blackness that yawned somewhere nearby. Sometimes he would open his eyes as much as he could, squint at whatever was in front of him. He could never make out more than blurred, fuzzy, shifting shapes and lines and colors. It was all so very... misty. All he could really remember was a heavy, terrible despair that had hit him at some point not so long ago, a monstrous grief that he really should be able to name. He could not for the life of him think of what it had been, or whether the thing had occurred a thousand years ago or five minutes ago. In fact, the only thing that was allowing him to think at all was that insistent pain in his leg, that pain that seemed to be growing slowly but steadily stronger, clearing his head inch by inch with every passing minute, or hour, or whatever time had begun to be...<p>

_"... your demands... the Offspring... grave mistake... if you think... the legends... they fear..."_

_"We don't... have no power... whatever you may... must accept... we have him..."_

The two voices were very different, one crackling and gravelly, the other higher and tinged with fury. The second voice seemed very familiar, and brought a faint twinge of nausea rushing into his stomach. He couldn't quite place either, but he was sure it was important. He struggled a little closer towards clarity, but suddenly felt his head swimming and sank back down into the grey emptiness once more. Reality ebbed in and out with vague jabs of stinging pain that seemed to be coming from everywhere. And there were noises too, noises of something whimpering and moaning, maybe some kind of animal in pain, something wounded being kicked while it was down... Maybe he should try to wake himself up, go and help whatever creature it was. The sounds seemed to be quite close, after all...

_"It's... hear that? Do... D-Doctor?"_

_Doctor. _Now, there was a word he had been hearing a lot recently. Well, for most of his life, if he was honest. But more so than usual in the last space of time that had passed, he was sure of that. He tried to open his eyes again, caught a brief glimpse of blinding whiteness and then short flashes of black, felt that sting again, this time a little more vivid. The noises spiked, then died away a little. His roaring, muted ears snatched a short phrase from the crackling voice, still speaking somewhere in the background.

_"... warning you - this time you will have no mercy. What happened all those years ago, it will be nothing if you touch him one more..."_

There was something he recognised about that voice, something that again sent that garbled message through his body - something important was happening. He needed to get up, wake up, pay attention, because something was going wrong... something... something to do with... the Doctor...

_"... you think, Doctor..."_

_"... stop it! Doctor, please, make them stop!"_

That last voice, high-pitched, crackling too but achingly familiar. Amy. How could he not know who that was? But why was Amy sounding like that, so terrified, her voice choked with tears... With a surge of pain he found himself brought back to earth with a jolt, felt the hot wetness of blood plastering his jeans to his right shin, felt the coolness of tears on his face, felt the violent shocks tearing through him - and heard those distant noises ripping from his own throat. Only now, they were rising to a scream. All at once something changed, as if some of the pressure that was stopping him from breathing had lifted, allowing him to finally fall silent. His throat hurt now. Had that really been him making those noises before? Hands came down on his shoulders and the whole world suddenly swung violently; Rory's whole body protested, every limb howling with agony, his own loud retches sending shudders down his spine. The chair he had become so used to was suddenly gone, and he was being dragged sideways before being thrown downwards. He hit the floor and felt the world dropping away almost at once, spinning, whirling, tipping him over the edge into the darkness...

Amy. He hadn't thought to check on Amy. Something was happening to Amy and he didn't know what... But suddenly that didn't seem to matter anymore, because suddenly he couldn't think at all.

* * *

><p>Amy held onto River as tightly as she could, trying to suppress the heavy sobs that were forcing themselves out of her chest. The other woman was talking rapidly, stroking her hair, clearly doing everything she could to calm her down, but she could barely hear River's voice.<p>

The sounds coming over that intercom... she'd had no idea that a human could ever be in that much pain. That _Rory _would ever be making those kinds of sounds. And maybe she could have survived the start of it if they hadn't done whatever they did to make him scream like that. She had never, ever heard Rory scream like that before. Never.

"Amelia? Amy. Amy!"

She looked up, sniffing, struggling to concentrate. The Doctor was pulling her from River's grip, wrapping his arms around her. She clung to him like a lifeline, silently begging him to do something, to make a miracle happen, to bring her Rory back again.

"Amy, it worked. It worked, alright? They're coming to meet me in three hours. As soon as they get here you and River can go up there and find him. Amelia, it means he's still alive, it mean's they didn't kill him-"

_"Three hours!"_

"I'm sorry, I know, but he's going to be fine. Rory's strong, he's going to be alright. We're going to get to him."

None of it mattered anymore. Rory was alone up there. And all she could think was that if she had simply stayed with him, if she had waited, then they would be together. Maybe the whole thing could have been avoided it.

Maybe it was all her fault.

**Naw, poor Ponds :( Next chapter will hopefully see a little more action since the Doctor's 'Plan' is about to get started...**

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are welcome.**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	5. Plan

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, stuff like that... no particular pairing, probs leaning more towards Amy/Rory at the mo...**

**Thanks for the reviews**

Rory woke with a flinch to icy air rushing into his lungs and a hard, cold, concrete floor digging into his side. He blinked, the world around him fuzzy and dark, certain of the fact that he had been asleep - or unconscious - for a long time. He shifted, thinking about getting up, but pain screamed through him at once and he froze with a gasp. He didn't dare risk getting up, not when he could feel that kind of pain. And his leg... he must have broken something. What had even happened? Had he tripped or... A flurry of movement across the room caught his eye, and as a tall figure with a strange mask pulled over its face came into sight, everything came rushing back to him in an agonizing, horrible flood. He shut his eyes again at once and hastily stilled his breathing as the figure came closer. He wasn't sure why. All he knew was that the last thing he wanted to do was attract their attention again.

He lay as motionless as he could on the ground, feeling the freezing cold eat slowly into his bones, listening as well as his pounding head would allow him to. They hadn't tied him up, hadn't bothered to restrain him in any way. Perhaps they thought he was dead. He felt as if he should be dead - his body twitched and shook now and again with violent tremors he could not control, he could feel a mixture of wet and dry blood on his skin and every inch of him seemed to be throbbing perpetually. His head was too foggy, too confused to allow him to think of a plan. His memory of the last few hours - or was it days, it felt like it should be days - was hard to pin down, like a dream that kept dancing out of reach. He seemed to remember something to do with Amy...

_"How could you be so careless? Now the Doctor has escaped!"_

_"They - are - gone. And they're not coming back. It is all over."_

His heart sank and a heavy wave of thick, overwhelming despair hit him like a wall. That was it. Amy and the Doctor had gone, they had left him behind, they had escaped from the planet before they too were caught. He knew that he should be happy for them, relieved that she was going to be safe, and in a way he was. It was just the thought of her being safe with _him,_ the thought that she had barely even paused to help him while, had the Doctor been in danger, everything would have been put on hold. As it was, he was alone. He was going to have to rely on himself. And if he was planning on living past tomorrow, that meant getting out of the hellhole he had landed himself in. He forced himself to stop feeling, stop listening to those panicking thoughts in the back of his head. He took a few breaths, trying to calm down, trying to draw back into himself, back to that door. Back to the memories.

He remembered everything they had told him, everything he had been taught while training to be part of one of the most powerful empires the world had ever seen. He remembered the heat of Rome, the way sweat had trickled down his back and face as he threw himself into the fight, remembered the endless days of trekking across continents, the spray of hot blood across his face, the fire that had burned in his veins as he fulfilled his purpose as a soldier, as a part of the most glorious revolution in the universe, as part of the Empire. _Pax Romana. _Every time he tried, it was getting harder to remember the person he had been back then. It had been another life, another world, another universe. He had been a different person.

Maybe a person who could survive something like this.

He took another couple of deep breaths, began to listen properly, trying to fight his way through the blood roaring in his ears. He could hear voices, movement, the sharp click of weaponry. He didn't dare open his eyes again in case they noticed him. The pain was still there, bubbling insistently in the back of his mind, but in the heat of battle there was no time to pay any attention to it. If he could just get that mentality back, maybe... maybe...

"... be so stupid! The Doctor is always a threat, even alone!"

"He's the one we want. We may never have this chance again."

Rory recognized one of the voices, a voice that sent a dull tremor of disgust through him. The leader of the Hive. His addled brain could barely comprehend what that phrase even meant, but it brought the taste of bile to his mouth. He tried to concentrate on what they were saying.

"Then it's decided. We'll go to meet him, you will take the long way around and watch for my signal. When I make it, you will come in from behind and cut him off from his Blue Ship. If we're careful, we'll have him."

"What about him?"

Rory froze at once, held his breath. He could almost feel their veiled eyes turning on him, scrutinizing him, searching for signs of life. There was a long pause.

"He won't survive."

"He may still be useful. Maybe they'll come back for him."

That last phrase sent a pulse of grief through him. Clearly they didn't know the Doctor as he did. Why would they come back? Why would he risk placing Amy in danger for Rory's sake? It would never happen. They weren't coming back.

"Very well. You'll remain. We'll go."

There were murmurs of agreement. More movement. Muttered words. Rory waited, hardly daring to breathe. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes a crack, peering through his eyelashes. Across the room, near the door, the Hive were grouped. As he watched, their leader lifted his gun, jerked it towards the door and then led the way out into the pitch black night beyond. The cool, damp breeze rushed in, smelling vaguely of autumn leaves. The others followed, only the last remaining. Rory watched through slitted eyes as the last alien, identically dressed to the others, faceless, pulled the door to and pressed a series of buttons beside it, gun thrown back against its shoulder. It turned, and he hastily shut his eyes. His heart lurched as footsteps grew nearer and then stopped beside his head, the creaking of shifting leather boots filling his ears. He stopped breathing, willing the tremors to stop just for a few more moments... and then, after what seemed like an age, the alien finally turned away and walked back over to the door. Rory took a short glance upwards. The humanoid pushed the door the others had left through open and stepped outside, leaving it ajar, leaning against the wall of the small building.

Rory stayed still for a while longer, counting the seconds in his head. He reached fifteen minutes, then twenty. Then, slowly, he began to move. He quickly found that moving his right leg brought violent surges of agony pulsing through him, and that his head responded in a similar way when he tried to lift it off the ground. But he had no choice. He could not risk them all coming back. This might be his one and only chance to escape. Where he would go was something he would have to decide on later. Slowly, moving an inch every minute or so, he managed to force himself into a sitting position and lean back against the wall, chest heaving, lips pressed tightly together to suppress the moans shuddering on his tongue. He kept flinching involuntarily, kept twitching, as if thousands of tiny electric shocks were rushing through him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, then with a massive effort he grabbed the wall and dragged himself heavily up to his feet. The whole world span madly and nausea rose in the back of his throat. He pressed a hand over his mouth, leaning on the wall to keep himself upright, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. Darkness threatened at the corners of his vision, but he blinked hard, forced it away.

It took him a full ten minutes to pull himself under control. He lifted his head, squinted around. The room in which he had been kept for the last eternity of his life was small, smaller than he had initially thought. Behind the chair he had been in was a gun rack and a cupboard, both of which were padlocked. There was one window directly opposite him, but no other exits. Rory contemplated making a break for the door and straightened up, then dropped back against the wall with a soft hiss of pain as his leg protested. His ribs were beginning to ache dully and he could taste blood on his lips. He had only one choice - the window.

He checked the door one last time, making sure that the alien outside hadn't noticed him. It hadn't - it seemed to be doing something with a small, round object from which smoke was whispering. Then he gathered what strength he still had, forced the pain to the back of his mind, and lurched away from the wall. He grabbed the metal chair for balance as he passed, and something caught his eye. He glanced down to see a pool of glistening blood at the foot of the chair, followed by a dark smear leading over to the wall he had been lying by. He looked down, caught a glimpse of bloody, sticky, dripping fabric around his leg and quickly diverted his gaze as sickness rose up in him again. He couldn't think about that now. He couldn't. He had to get out. With another blast of effort, he made it to the window and fell against it. His numb, trembling fingers fumbled for a latch, but he couldn't find one. He pressed his hand against the glass in despair - and without warning, it dissolved beneath his touch. At the same time, a thin, pericing alarm began to shriek through the air.

Rory didn't wait for the alien to rush back in and find him. Without wasting a second, he threw himself at the window and scrambled through it, falling heavily on his injured leg on the wet ground outside. He heard himself scream out in pain as he forced himself upright, running on pure adrenaline, the howls and clashes of steel in ancient battles ringing in his ears. Romans never give in. Romans never stop. Romans are rocks, mountains, great pillars that hold the Empire on their shoulders. So Rory forgot the pain, he forgot the confusion, and he started running as best he could.

He didn't stop for a long time. The wind was harsh and strong and buffetted at him as he ran, but he ignored it. The tiny building he was limping away from was in the middle of a thick, dark thicket of trees and he was forced to weave through them to escape, the difficult path made worse by his swinging head and his tight lungs. He knew that if he stopped, if he looked over his shoulder, he wouldn't be able to keep going again.

When he finally stopped, it was because he could no longer see through the dots dancing before his eyes. He crashed heavily to his knees and dragged himself backwards behind a large rock, gasping for breath, curling around his searing leg. The pain rushed back with a vengeance, snapping at him like a wolf, and he closed his eyes tightly. He sat for a few moments, waiting, listening, praying... but nobody came. Either the alien had lost track of him among the trees or hadn't even noticed he was gone. He let himself relax for a fraction of a second before shrugging off his overshirt and tearing it into strips with his teeth. Trying not to look too hard at the damage done, he began to wrap the material with trembling hands around his bloody leg. He tied it tight, suppressing a yelp, and then moved his hands to his head. He could feel crusted blood on his face, in his hair... god, everything hurt so much. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. All his nurse training was flowing out of his head like water through a sieve. Fear was gnawing on the edge of his mind. If they found him again now... He forced himself up to his feet once more, swayed, snatched at the rock.

From what he could see around him, he was on the side of some rocky area where the trees had stopped and the ground sloped steeply downwards. The sky was dark, and growing darker every second. The air was cold, the ground strewn with fallen leaves and lined with a thin film of frost. Rory swallowed hard. He was in bad shape, he had no idea where he was, and he was completely and utterly alone.

For a few moments he stood motionless. Then, slowly, he turned in the opposite direction to the building he had just escaped and began to slowly limp into the darkness.

**Just a Rory chapter, sorry it took so long...**

******Reviews are welcome :)**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR**


	6. Solitary

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, etc...**

**Thanks for the reviews, sorry it's been so long. Anywho. Kind of a split up chapter since we've now got three separate lines running alongside each other. We'll see how it goes.**

_Little further. Just a bit further._**  
><strong>

Rory's shin hit something hard and he stumbled for the fifth time in the last sixty seconds. He fell heavily against the nearest stable object and clung to the icy surface, panting dryly, nausea lurching through his stomach as he struggled to ignore the agony roaring through his leg. He could no longer place any weight on the limb at all without wanting to scream, and there was only so long that he could keep his lips clenched shut. Every sound around him, every patter of snow, every creak of wood, sent sheer terror volting through him in waves. If he was caught now, if his guard managed to track him down, he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep himself going. There would be no escape. It would all be over. He lifted his head, squinting through his damp eyelashes into the pale darkness around him.

_Little further._

He wasn't exactly sure when it had started snowing.

The thick layer of whiteness now reached above his ankles, and it was even more of an effort to drag himself through it. As well as that, he could no longer see the ground in front of him, and constantly caught himself on roots and rocks. He had left the small thicket of woods behind a while ago - he wasn't sure how long - and he was now surrounded by the great dark rocks of the mountain. He wove a precarious, icy path across the mountain's face, hoping and praying that once he reached the bottom he could find someone to help. But what help could there be? The Doctor and Amy were gone, and they wouldn't be coming back. And he was a mess. He knew it, he could feel his body giving up even as he took another step. His lungs burned with the freezing air, his limbs trembled violently, his head pounded, his skin throbbed, his ribs seared and every so often a sudden burst of pain would dart through him, like an electric shock, abrupt and unexpected. Rory walked a little further, tripped again, fell to his knees.

_Little longer._

He kept the mantra up in his head. It was the only thought he could really fully form anymore. He reached for a nearby boulder, used it to heave himself up to his feet, stood motionless for a few seconds. Snow fell thick and fast around him, nearing a blizzard, his whole body shuddering wildly. He shut his eyes. He could walk with his eyes shut, it would be fine... just fine...

_Bit further. Just a bit further._

_Amy..._

_She left..._

_But just a little further..._

_But she left... she left me..._

_Keep walking, just keep walking..._

His good leg suddenly skidded out from beneath him, and without warning he plummeted downwards. He hit the ground and lay on his back in the snow, gasping, dark spots dancing before his eyes. Funny, this was how it had all started. He had been on the ground, head pounding, wondering just what exactly had gone so wrong so quickly. Everything hurt. Or... now that he thought about it, the pain was all starting to fade... With a mammoth effort, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. A couple of meters away he could see a place where the mountain hung out over the path he was taking, leaving a small sheltered area. Right now, that tiny little patch of rock looked like heaven. Rory forced a couple of deep breaths in and out of his tight, searing lungs. Then he reached out and began to drag himself forwards. He dug his fingertips into the snow and heaved, pushing with his uninjured leg. He managed a meter before he had to stop, sweat prickling on his forehead.

_Come on. Little further. Bit further._

He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrated on breathing, on not throwing up. He reached out, felt smooth, snow-less rock beneath his fingertips. He wriggled forwards, finally dragging himself into the tiny alcove, and let himself drop. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

><p>Amy knelt beside River, shivering as the cold snow ate into her jacket. She shifted on her knees, winced.<p>

"Little longer," River murmured. "Don't worry, Amy, the Doctor always knows what he's doing."

"Yeah. I know."

She swiveled around, glanced over her shoulder at the great specter of the mountain behind them. Somewhere up there, Rory was still trapped in the Hive's base. She didn't want to think about how many hours had passed since she had heard those terrible sounds across the intercom. She sighed heavily, fidgeting, chewing on her lip. And then, just as she was about to announce that she was going whether the plan would allow it or not, River's hand came down on her arm and squeezed tight.

"There. I see them. _There."_

Amy squinted through the dark. It took her a few moments longer to pick out the small group of black-clad, masked figures making their way down from the mountain, spilling through the rocks like drops of oil, moving silently into the dark trees within which the Doctor was waiting. She counted five altogether - then they were gone. River held a finger to her lips, her great curly hair framed with silvery falling snow. They paused a beat longer. Then River nodded, turned and began to run silently up between the rocks. Amy lurched to her feet and dashed after her, wading through the snow, heart in her mouth. She spared a glance back over her shoulder as she went, but the trees hid the TARDIS and the Doctor from view.

They were following the co-ordinates that River had received from the Doctor. According to River's devices, it would take around twenty minutes to get to the base. Twenty minutes, and she would know for sure one way or the other... As long as she kept telling herself that it was all going to be okay, she wouldn't have time to think about how much of a probability there was that the exact opposite was true. She wouldn't have time to consider the fact that, now that the Hive knew that Rory was not the Doctor, they had no further use for him and would therefore have no reason whatsoever to keep him alive...

She kept her eyes on River, whose white snow jacket blended in seamlessly with the ground. Her bare hands tingled in the cool air and her ears were beginning to ache, despite the fact that it had only been a couple of minutes. She tried to remember if Rory had been wearing a jacket that morning when she had last seen him. Not a thick enough one to withstand this kind of weather, anyway. She found herself wishing she had brought something more with her, but River had suggested they simply concentrate on getting Rory back to the TARDIS. The sooner they got off this planet the better.

"Okay, Amy?"

"Yes. I'm right behind you."

Her voice sounded thin and tight in the freezing night air. Snow settled on her face and hair like a cotton sheet.

She didn't know what was worse - the idea of finding Rory bloodied and beaten in the base at the top of the mountain, or returning to find the Doctor dead.

_Just a little longer... Just hold on a little longer, Rory... a little longer..._

Whoever had called this island Paradise had to have been completely out of their mind.

* * *

><p>The Doctor waited, leaning back against the doors of his TARDIS, his sonic screwdriver grasped gently in his pocket. The snow had formed a perfect, clean blanket across the clearing in which he stood. Amy and River's footprints had been filled in quickly by the falling flakes. In a few more hours, the snow would stop and spring would begin to creep in again, and the cycle would begin all over again. For the first time, that thought didn't fill him with joy. He remembered the time he had stood on that cliff, on the very brink of it, and watched the world unfurling once more. He remembered that feeling of great elation, the knowledge that he had saved an entire civilization, that he had removed a terrible danger from the world. The Hive had been defeated, and as spring dawned he felt as if this was a world that could never be tainted again.<p>

It seemed like every time he decided to be merciful, every time he tried to show compassion, he was punished for it one way or another. Even the Garden of Eden wasn't safe.

He could hear them coming long before he saw them, could feel the TARDIS vibrating softly, warning him. He remained quiet, remained still. He listened to their soft footfalls in the snow, listened to them picking their way through the trees beyond the clearing. There was a pack of them, and they were spreading out. The Doctor pushed himself off the TARDIS and took a step into the whiteness, head bent, watching his shoes. One by one, he heard them stop. Silence. He took another step, skimming his toe across the ice, tracing a pale line. Seconds crawled past.

"Come on, come on, then!" he said at last, lifting his head. "Have you come to ambush me or not?"

Moments crawled past and then, at last, a dark figure emerged from between the trees and moved silently out into the clearing, a shadow against the fluttering snow flakes. The sight of it sent the Doctor straight back to that night all those years ago, every detail reflected perfectly. He remembered those grey masks complete with their vertical metal slats, the large reflective goggles, the ugly, withered skin visible between the strips of rubber and tin a grimy, off-white. Only now instead of the ceremonial robes there were metal-toed boots, heavy combat jackets, a hood pulled high over the bald head. He wondered if they still knew how to make the venom that burned and seared, or if their shriveled wings were even still in contact with their hunched backs. He remembered his first view of the Hive - the winding labyrinth of the caves within the mountains, filled with a heady, dizzying smoke and hypnotic hum. He remembered first seeing the Offspring crawling across the many levels of their Hive, shrunken grey bodies wriggling across the ground.

As terrible as that had been, what had been so much worse was the sight of the three Queens.

If he dared close his eyes now, he knew that he would see them again. He would see their pulsating bellies and their massive yellow eyes. He would see their long, spindly fingers and their round, funnel-like mouths. He would hear their screams as he locked them deep in the bottom of their own Hive, echoing through the mountains, the ugly truth below the beautiful landscape of Paradise. So he did not close his eyes. He looked into the large dark goggles of the last of the Offspring, one of the very few he had allowed to live, assuming that they would better themselves, learn their lesson, and attempt to integrate themselves with the steady flow of pilgrims and refugees spilling into this new world.

"Before you say anything," he said quietly, "I would advise you to start by begging for your lives. Because you have made the mistake of making me very, very angry."

"Doctor," the Offspring replied quietly. "We should have known at once that little runt wasn't you. Here you stand. New face, same man."

"I didn't hear any begging in that."

"You don't have the upper hand anymore, Doctor. We have your 'companion'. We have your blue ship. We have _you._"

The Offspring lifted its arm. Four others appears around the clearing, large guns leveled at the Doctor's head. The Docotr didn't move his gaze from the first, the one who had distinguished itself as a leader. The one who was therefore responsible.

"You have one chance, and one chance only, Doctor. Take us to our Queens, and release them. Or we will shoot."

**Not sure how I felt about this chapter... ah well, felt bad about not putting anything up for ages. Hope you enjoyed it.**

**Reviews are welcome.**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR. **


	7. Snow

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, just the plot bunny**

**Thank you for the reviews, and lots of apologies for how long it's been since there was a chapter update on this thing... This chapter was hard to get right for some reason, and plus I got interested in life in general... But now exams are coming around again, and I need something to do to distract myself from those ;)**

**Warning: Possibly strong language, violence, etc...**

After an long, tense and almost impossible climb up the icy face of the mountain, the Offspring's base finally came into sight. It sat in the middle of a dead, skeletal forest, periodically obscured by the large flakes of snow hurling themselves down from the dark sky, hunched and ugly, crouching in the midst of the whiteness. It was little more than a tiny concrete bunker, only one door in and out. And that single door was hanging wide open, gaping like a wide, toothless mouth, spilling pale light onto the snow. Amy slowed down as they approached, vaguely aware of River running ahead of her. The older woman lifted her gun, pausing to glance around before vanishing into the small building. Amy came to a halt, the snow tangling in her hair as the biting cold wind tore at her, her coat fluttering. She knew without needing to enter that they were too late.

Rory was gone. She could feel it.

She turned away, scanning the woods through narrow eyes. The trees crowded in around her, tall and silent, revealing nothing but darkness. She felt a sudden pang of despair, fought down a sob. She opened her mouth to shout for him - and then let out a shriek as a dark figure broke away from the darkness. She had just enough time to take in large, orb-like eyes in a long grey gas mask, a grotesque spreading mouthpiece, like some kind of monster rearing out of the blackness before a gun swung into her line of vision. With a burst of energy she threw herself aside, felt a stinging pain in her arm as the shot grazed her. She scrambled up to her knees, trying desperately to make a break for cover, but the alien turned and aimed again, and this time its aim was too close to avoid. Her blood surged with adrenaline and terror.

River's shot rang clear across the still, snowy air and the alien staggered, then crumpled and fell. Amy rose, struggling to hold back tears of shock, trembling as River dashed past her and bent down to check the prone body.

"It's dead... Are you alright?"

Amy stared down at it, her stunned brain slowly clicking over. There was something she was missing. "It was in the forest..."

"Sorry?"

Amy blinked, brushing at her eyes. "The forest, it was in the forest," she repeated faintly. "Why was it in the forest? Why not in the base?"

River looked at her for a second, and a single thought passed between the two women, fast as lightning. Together, they turned towards the wood. Amy strode towards the trees, her heart in her mouth, praying with everything she had for one last miracle. So close, they had to be so close, Rory couldn't possibly have gotten far... her eyes caught on a broken branch, then another a little further on. Her heart leaped.

"River!"

"I see it," River called, already ducking into the trees.

"You think he came this way?"

_"Something_ came this way."

They began to move once more, hampered by the snow, squinting through the swirling flakes for any sign at all. They pushed their way through the forest, River still holding her gun ready, her trained eye scanning the shadows. Amy could feel her own heart pounding in her ears, in her fingertips. _Come on, Rory, _she begged silently. _Come on, please, please give me something... show me where you are... _She caught sight of another twisted branch and made for it. The trail was faint, any footprints now covered up by the whiteness, the world too dark to reveal anything more than the bent twigs. And yet there were a lot of them - the trees stood close together, and it seemed that Rory hadn't taken much care on his path through them. Running, she realized. He had been running. She saw him in her mind, tearing through the wood, sprinting for safety, and her heart ached. Perhaps he wasn't too badly injured, perhaps he was alright, if he could run like this... Her tension mounted higher and higher the deeper they went, the further into the woods their trail took them. Had to be soon, had to be soon, couldn't be much longer... but behind the mantra of hope, a small voice was whispering. Asking where he was. Why they hadn't found him. Whether he had taken a fall, or whether the alien had found him before they had even got to the base... What if there was a second guard somewhere in the trees? Amy's stomach twisted as they emerged from the trees onto a steep, downwards slope, and the trail came to an abrupt end. River stopped, hissing through her teeth, her hand clenching on her gun.

"What now?" Amy murmured.

River shook her head. "I don't know."

Amy swallowed hard, and then made for the slope, skidding precariously down it. Throwing caution to the winds, she raised her voice to a shrill yell. "Rory! Rory! It's Amy!"

"Amy, shh, there may be more..."

But she didn't care anymore. It had been too long, far too long, and they both knew that there was no more time left to waste. She plunged through the deep waves of snow, looking around as she went, trying to make out shapes in the looming, vast rocks of the mountains. The wind swirling through the stone seemed to laugh at her, cackle at her failure.

"Rory!"

Her voice bounced off the sheer face of the mountain, lost itself in the nooks and crannies of the rocks. Thick silence answered her calls, pitiless, empty. She sped up, sniffing hard, shoving her way through the rocks. _Come on, please, please..._

"Rory! RORY!"

She heard River take up the call behind her, apparently disregarding her own advice. She pressed on through the snow, through the quiet, struggling to hold back the sobs threatening to break loose. On and on they walked, and the rocks grew icier, and her feet slipped and skidded, and no matter how loud she called she got no reply... no reply... They were nearing the foot of the mountain again, and River suddenly stopped behind her. Amy shook her head, refusing to look back.

"Amy."

She kept going, looking behind every rock, brushing furiously at her blurring eyes.

"Amy, stop. He's not... I don't think he's..."

"We're not going anywhere until we've found him."

Her voice shook, but she refused to care. She had a horrible feeling that this was her last chance, her last chance to get him back, to save him, and that he was so very near. She was just looking in the wrong places, surely, she just had to keep going, and she would find him... she _had _to find him.

"Amy... We should go back to the Doctor, secure the rest of the Hive. Maybe we can make them tell us where he is, if they know..."

Amy shook her head. River sighed heavily, pressing a hand to her eyes. Amy turned away from her, more to hide her own tears than anything else... and saw a patch of crimson on the snow. She stared at it, blinked hard, and then moved forwards between the rocks. Another patch close by... and then a streak, as if something bloody had been dragged along. All faint, all seeping into the snow, almost out of sight... she slowed down, peering around, hardly daring to hope. The path wound between the rocks, leading back down towards the forest. She could barely see anything but the sharp contrast between stone and ice. Her eyes caught on a slight overhang, a small hovel eaten into the side of the mountain, and the shadows beneath it. No, not a shadow, a log. Not a log...

She stared. Then she threw herself forwards, calling desperately for River, calling for him. As she got closer, she made out a large red patch staining the snow around one shoe, bright and scarlet. Her stomach surged with nausea but she fought it down. She dropped to her knees and crawled underneath the overhang, pushing her way through the wet snow. She snatched for his arm, hardly daring to believe he was real... and yet he was there, her hand closed over his elbow, and he didn't vanish under her touch. She pulled him over onto his back, shuffling nearer.

"Rory!" she breathed, pushing her hands through his hair, crystallized with ice. In the dim light she could just make out his pale skin, a spattering of blood across his face, the fan of his eyelashes against his cheek, his blue lips... _oh god, no, please no... _She snatched up his hand - his freezing, ice-cold hand - and felt for his wrist, holding her breath, waiting. A pulse flickered against her fingers, light as the wings of a butterfly, and she heard herself cry out in relief. She moved closer on her knees, pulling him towards her, noticing that he wasn't wearing his coat, that there was blood spattered over his t-shirt, that his face was bruised and his eyes still firmly closed.

"RIVER!"

River was there, crouching beside her, gesturing for her to pull him out from under the rocks. Amy maneuvered her way backwards, taking him under the arms and dragging him carefully with her. Rory made a soft noise in the back of his throat as they slid into the violent wind, and Amy's whole body burned with joy.

"Rory! Rory, can you hear me? It's me, it's me, Rory, please..."

She pulled him into her lap, his body a dead weight, and noticed the tiny tremors rolling over his limbs. In the light of River's torch she could see the bruises scattered across the left side of his face, blood caked on his upper lip and glittering in a cut on his cheek, the skin grazed at his temple. Someone had been hitting him, that much was clear. His eyes moved beneath their lids and Amy bent over him, hoping his eyes would open, hoping that on some level he knew that she was there. She felt shallow breaths whispering against her cheek and planted a fierce kiss on his cool forehead, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm him up, her own tears splashing onto his cheeks. Alive, alive, he was _alive. _She glanced up as River shrugged off her coat and held it out.

"He's in a bad way," the older woman muttered. She was looking at his leg, and Amy noticed with a jolt the thick blood coating the right leg of his jeans. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around it awkwardly. "We need to get him back to the TARDIS."

Amy wrapped the coat around Rory's shoulders with shaking hands. He moaned again and his eyes flickered; she could have sworn that for a fraction of a second he looked directly back at her. She called his name, but he didn't respond. She began to rub his arms again.

"What's wrong with his leg?" she asked, her voice strangely high.

"I think he's been shot," River replied, gently prying the material back. "He's lost a lot of blood... Good man, tying it up himself..."

An image of Rory, cold and alone on the side of a mountain, frantically trying to stop himself from bleeding out forced itself into Amy's mind. She pushed the thought away and stroked Rory's head, felt her hand come into contact with a mass of dried blood in his hair.

"It's going to be okay," she heard herself say, her voice strangely far away. "It's going to be okay, you did it, you stupid face, you made it, and now we've found you, and you're going to be fine. I'm here, you'll be okay, I promise, just... just hold on, please, just a little longer..." She looked up at River, sniffing hard. "We should go, right now."

River opened her mouth - and a gunshot cracked through the air from somewhere below them. As they both flinched towards the sound, a distant shout floated through the thick snowfall. Amy froze, clinging to Rory, her eyes wide as they met River's.

"The Doctor."

River rose sharply, lifting her gun once more. She hesitated, glancing between Rory and the forest below them, and then bit her lip. "Stay here," she said at last. "Stay with him."

She took off, sprinting down the precarious, icy path towards the woods. Amy stared after her, torn, panic in her throat. She tightened her grip on Rory.

Why was it that, every time, she had to choose between them?

* * *

><p>It had all been going so very well until now. He had been polite. They had talked. They had negotiated. But then, as negotiations with mad men so often do, the mood had turned sour and the good traditional English form of talking things over in a quiet voice just hadn't been enough. A simple analysis of the air had reminded him why the Offspring had built their Hive so far under the ground - for them, the air was toxic. It had meant that he really had very little thinking to do about how he could destroy them, should the situation take a turn for the worst, which he had expected it would.<p>

Two of the five Offspring lay motionless on the floor of the clearing, their masks disabled by the Doctor's screwdriver, their bodies twitching reflexively as the natural insecticides in the air overwhelmed their nervous systems. One was doubled over, rasping loudly; the Doctor had managed to kick it in the gut as the three of them advanced on him, but then it had grabbed his screwdriver out of his hand and the only weapon he ever carried was gone. Which was how he now found himself with his arm twisted up behind his back at an impossible angle and the nozzle of a gun pressing hard against his side. The Offspring's leader had its other arm around his neck, holding him in a tight, suffocating grip.

"You will tell us, Doctor," the leader ground out between its teeth, slightly breathless from the fight. "If you think we'll stop now, if you think we're giving in, after all this time-"

The Doctor threw his elbow backwards, felt it sink into the body behind him. The gun went off and he glanced down to see a tear in his jacket where the shot had sped past. Close. He span around, drawing back as the leader straightened up and strode forwards, lifting his gun once more.

"We are _not _letting you go," the leader snarled. "Not this time!"

The Doctor sighed heavily. He felt that he ended up in these situations far too much for a man who wanted peace. Staring down a gun never really changed, no matter who was behind it. The length of time that you had to talk yourself out of the situation, however... there was never really a set plan for that. The Doctor looked into the wide lens of the mask before him, glanced at the other two aliens. He wondered if he'd kept them away for long enough yet, whether the others had managed to find Rory. If everything did go horribly wrong, at least there was the possibility that River, Amy and hopefully Rory too could get back to the village and find help, find a way off the planet.

"Last warning," the leader said. "Tell us, or we will have to hurt you."

"You've made the mistake of attacking one of my greatest friends," the Doctor replied slowly. "And you think I'm going to comply with anything you demand? You're a lost race. Not one female among you, your Queens buried thousands of miles underground, numbers dwindling every second... You have nothing left, and you are scrabbling to pick up the scraps of a dead life beyond your reach. Why I bother wasting my time on you is beyond comprehension."

There was a pause. The two Offspring on either side looked uncertainly at their leader, hesitating. Their leader stared directly at the Doctor. The silence filled the clearing as snow swirled down from above, the image strangely serene.

"You're right."

The Doctor blinked. "I am? Well, rarely get that..."

"You are." The Offspring glared at him. "You are never going to give us what we want. And we have nothing left... almost nothing. We have one thing. We have revenge."

And it leveled the gun at his head. The ear-shattering bang filled the world and the Doctor ducked, hardly knowing why, aware that it was too late... but then he realized that he was alive, and that he could feel no pain, and that his head was indeed still fixed on his shoulders. He straightened up in time to see the Offspring's leader sway, and then drop face-first to the ground and twitch before falling motionless. A figure stepped out of the trees, gun lifted in her hand.

"Hello, Sweetie. Trouble?"

The Doctor felt a grin spread across his face. He would say that he had never been so pleased to see her before in his life, but that would have been a lie; he was always pleased to see River Song. The happy surprise lasted about five seconds - the next moment, the two remaining offspring had thrown themselves forwards. River's next shot went wide, and the gun was torn from her hand by the alien surging towards her; the Doctor was rugby tackled the he floor by the other one. It was still holding his screwdriver and the Doctor made a snatch for it, but only earned himself a blow to the face. Pain exploded in his nose and he made a wild swing at the alien crouching over him. It knocked his arm away, lifted its fist. It hit him again, and he saw stars.

_Bad, bad, very, very bad..._

He struggled, snow eating into his back, but the Offspring was heavier, stronger and angrier. And the world was spinning, and the Doctor couldn't think... River, where was River? He suddenly realized with a flash of panic that he couldn't hear her, couldn't hear her gun. He tried to twist around to look for her, but the Offspring grabbed his collar and dragged him up. He could see his own face in the lens of its eyes, see the bright blood on his own lip. The alien drew back its fist for another blow - and a burst of bright red flew out of nowhere and barrelled into it, sending both tumbling away across the snow. The Doctor sat up, his eyebrows jumping up his forehead, to see Amy Pond trying to hold down the Offspring, her long hair flying, her face lined with determination. His eyes dropped to the snow, coming to rest on his screwdriver. It had been discarded in the struggle. He made a dive for it as the Offspring pushed Amy away and rose to it's feet. She scooted backwards away from it, and then let out a scream as it brought its booted foot down on her ankle.

"Amy!"

The Doctor scrambled to his feet and set the screwdriver alight. The alien screeched horribly, clutching at its throat, and then careered over onto its side and lay still. The Doctor span around, searching for River, and saw her rising to her feet. The last Offspring lay with its back to them, its mask a few feet away in the snow, the fuzzy shell of its head just visible. The Doctor let out a long breath, still stunned at the rapid succession of unexpected appearances in the clearing. He caught River's gaze, looked her up and down, surmised she was unharmed, and then turned quickly to Amy who was bent over her injured ankle, gasping.

"Amy?" he repeated, crossing to her in three quick strides and kneeling down. "Let me see."

"It's fine, it's not broken," she said breathlessly. She caught at his hands, forcing him to look at her. "It doesn't _matter, _I left Rory up there, we have to get back to him!"

"Is he alright?"

Her tearful gaze told him everything. She tried to get up but fell back down, yelping, and he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her as she gritted her teeth to try again.

"I'll go, I'll get him," he promised. "You can't walk on that."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a finger.

"Trust me, Pond, I am a doctor, after all. I'll bring him right back." He rose to his feet and turned to River, who was moving over to join them, having checked that all five Offspring had stopped breathing. "River? I'm getting Rory, you and Amy can-"

"Get their room ready," River cut in, arching an eyebrow at him. "I know. Straight up from here, turn left at the big pointy rock."

He shot her a smile before turning away and moving quickly away into the trees. He moved out to the foot of the mountain and started up it, shivering.

The snow fell thick and fast in the blackness, and the mountain loomed above him as the Doctor made his way through the snow, ice and rock. The darkness pressed in around him like a curse, and the freezing air surged into his lungs in floods. His breath pooled before him in the air in soft clouds.

_You know what's dangerous about you?_

The Doctor reached a rocky outcrop, marked by a large pointy boulder. He turned left, slowing down. He could see Amy's tracks in the snow, messy and hurried, blending together with River's.

_It's not that you make people take risks..._

His eyes scanned the dark rocks, and came to rest on a dark shape. Something inside him broke, and he had to pause to take a breath before continuing. He swallowed hard, a bitter taste coming into his mouth. The boy who waited, still waiting.

_It's that you make them want to impress you..._

Was that what had caused this whole mess? Amy, hell-bent on impressing her Raggedy Doctor... No. It wasn't the fact that people wanted to impress him. It was the fact that people needed to be impressed. It was the way that the Doctor could not help showing off, could not help himself when Pond's eyes turned on him and shone with admiration and waited for something fantastic to happen. And he wanted to be the one to show her those fantastic things, he wanted people to gasp and laugh aloud at his immense knowledge, at the beautiful things he could show them in just seconds. He fed off the excitement they felt, the thrills they experienced when riding the roller coaster of space and time at his side...

_You have no idea how dangerous you make people to themselves when you're around..._

He reached Rory and knelt down. He was wrapped in both Amy and River's coats, lying under the cover of a leaning rock. He took in the dark, purpling bruises on the young man's face, the blood... his skin seemed almost transparent, veins showing through his eyelids. In the dimness he seemed unearthly fragile. The Doctor reached out, ran a hand over his forehead. His skin was clammy, his breath shallow and fast. Moving his gaze further down, he noticed the bloodied bandages around his right leg, and felt a further twist of despair.

"Oh, Rory, Rory, Rory... I'm so very sorry," he murmured.

He slid an arm behind his back, put the other under his legs, and then rose to his feet. Rory shuddered violently in his arms, his head dropping against the Doctor's shoulder. The Doctor turned and began to head back towards the TARDIS, crossing the snow in fast, long-legged strides, Rory a dead weight in his grasp.

"Almost there, Rory," he said quietly. "It's almost over."

Out in the great expanse of space, there were millions who would love nothing more than to see the Doctor's head on a plate. It was so easy to put that out of his mind, to whisk himself away with the people he loved the most and forget that there was anything wrong. When the hard truth actually did hit home, they always seemed to be the ones that felt the blows. Rory Williams, the boy who waited, had come within a hair of death far too many times for one lifetime, and now it looked as if he was hurtling towards oblivion all over again. The Doctor felt him shiver again, his whole body flinching rigidly, and the Doctor quickened his pace. He was going to make this right, if it was the last thing he ever did.

**So, Rory's finally been found and some much needed h/c is on it's way. I'll try not to spend too long writing the next one ;)**

**Reviews are welcome**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	8. Breathe

**Disclaimer: Don't own it**

**Sooooo... it's Blood Spilt in Paradise again! I always feel awful for abandoning stories, so I'm making an effort to finish this one. I've been trying to pay some more attention to my own stuff before I leave home, but this is a nice way to take a break and I've missed it. So many apologies for leaving you guys hanging... Hope this doesn't disappoint :)**

The sudden rush of heat and light within the TARDIS engulfed the Doctor and his precious load like an embrace as they moved through the doors. The gentle whirr of the machinery, the soft sigh of the TARDIS' heart, the cavernous sense of space and age all served to calm the Doctor's fear and offer up a glimmer of hope, a promise of safety and security. Golden-yellow, clear light smiled down on them as the Doctor allowed those doors, familiar as a blood relative, swing closed behind him and climbed the steps to the control panel. He passed it by, heading straight on to the corridor beyond that led to the Ponds' room. His footsteps rang dully in the stillness and he felt strangely as if he was crossing a limbo, carrying Rory's heavy, limp body from hell to heaven, from terror to refuge. As they passed into the corridor that same body shifted slightly, began to twitch, as if the abrupt warmth had pounded some life back into it.

The Ponds' door was wide open, Amy already crouched awkwardly on their rumpled double bed, nursing her twisted ankle. Her pale face was streaked with mascara-tinged tears and blotchy red with emotion. Firm lines had formed around her mouth and her hair was bedraggled and damp from the snow. Her eyes gazed off into space, veiled thoughts flickering behind them like fireflies. Whether she felt despair or relief, the Doctor could not detect. He felt another swell of guilt within himself, felt a sharp stab of greif for his Companions, for the hell they had been through at his hands. He imagined them in a cottage, perhaps with children, perhaps happier than these wild days racing through the endless, dark universe would ever make them. Such thoughts were dangerous. He hastily glanced towards River Song who, resourceful as always, had cranked up the temperature in the room and had rooted out the first aid kit. The TARDIS must have helped her; she'd got her hands on the larger one, and had already found some painkillers and antiseptic. She knelt beside the bed, busy pulling bandages into long strips, her face stern. The contrast between the two women was striking - one desperate for distractions, the other overwhelmed with silence.

As he crossed to the bed and laid his burden down, Rory's twitches began to evolve into violent, sudden spasms that made his face contort in pain and his limbs bunch in on themselves sporadically. At his entrance Amy had startled out of her thoughts and now she crawled to her husband's side and snatched up his hand, her eyes quickly growing damp with fresh tears. The blood and dirt on Rory's skin was beginning to run with cold, clammy sweat; his bleeding leg left a long streak of redness across the white sheets.

"Rory!" Amy cried, her face close to his. "Rory, it's okay... oh god, I can't believe you're back, Rory, Rory, I'm so happy..."

Her fingers wove between his, her other hand moved through his wet hair and over his face. She planted a kiss on his cheek but he didn't seem to notice her, to even hear her. His pale lips were moving fast and silently, forming desperate words. The Doctor bent over him, feeling his forehead, propping open one eye to examine it. Rory's pupils were large and his eyes rolling wildly.

"Doctor?"

He glanced over his shoulder at River, who was bent over Rory's right leg. She had cut through his jeans and was peeling the soaked material away from the flesh, wincing as she did so. She looked up at him, her eyes alight with anxiety.

"We need to fix this now. I think his shin is shattered... We need to set it properly before it's too late."

The Doctor nodded, opening his mouth to reply, but before he could Amy's near-hysterical voice broke into their exchange.

"What's wrong with him? Doctor! Why's he... why's he shaking so much?"

He returned his attention to the couple, Amy now staring up at him imploringly. Begging him to make everything all right again. He cast his keen eye over Rory's trembling limbs and then touched his wrist, frowning at the angry, scarlet burns that had distorted the skin there. He ran his fingers over them carefully, Rory flinching violently at the contact. The Doctor's stomach fell away from him and then returned with a jolt. As if things weren't bad enough...

"_What?"_ Amy demanded, reading his face.

"Probably Bio-Electron Shock. It's rather... extreme."

He caught a glimpse of River stiffening at his words, saw her worried glance. Amy clearly noticed it too as a sob caught in her throat and her face crumpled.

"What can we do? Can we... Can we help him? Make it stop?"

"Sedate him," the Doctor replied, running both hands over the back of his head, sighing heavily through his nose at the thought of the long night ahead of them. "Then medicate him throughout the night."

"He should be a little better by tomorrow," River put in helpfully, drawing off Amy's penetrating stare. "We'll calm him down first, then we can deal with this leg."

"There should be sedatives in the blue box, River..."

River Song delved into the first aid kit, rising with a bottle and syringe. She filled it deftly, moving forwards. But the moment she touched Rory's arm he jerked away from her, a rough, incomprehensible yell escaping from his lips. Amy put her arms around his shoulders, which only seemed to terrify him more - he began to struggle with more strength than the Doctor would have thought possible, bucking and writhing away from their hands, his shouts escalating to harsh screams and ragged gasps. The Doctor made a grab for his arm, hoping to give River enough time to inject the serum, but without warning Rory's other fist swung out of nowhere and collided sharply with his face. Stars danced before the Doctor's eyes. He heard River crying out, felt her hand on his arm as he staggered, dazed, heard Amy sobbing and shouting.

"Damn it," River swore quietly.

"This could be more difficult than we anticipated," the Doctor breathed, blinking away the dark spots coating his vision, feeling his tender jaw. "My God, those Ponds pack a punch..."

Amy was still crouching beside Rory on the bed, doing her best to restrain his failing arms and calm his howls of pain and terror. His eyes remained screwed shut; his chest leapt with hyperventilating, shallow breaths. He was thrashing so violently against them that the Doctor knew he would hurt himself if they didn't stop him soon. He swallowed hard, silently praying that Rory would forgive him for what he was about to do.

"Alright, River, I'll hold him down. Amy, you lie on his legs. We'll have to be quick-"

"No!" Amy looked up sharply, her red eyes wide. "No, please, wait... just let me try once more."

She released him, and for a moment the only sound in the room was Rory's heaving, choking, rasping pants and half-formed cries. She closed her eyes, and then suddenly reached for his shoulders and heaved him upright. He began to struggle once more, panicking, and the Doctor darted forwards to help her. But Amy didn't want help - she slid behind him, her back against the headboard of the bed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him against her. He continued to pull at her, his fingernails leaving a set of stinging red scratches across her arm, but she ignored them.

"Rory. Rory. Rory, it's me, it's all alright, it's me. It's your Amy. I'm here, you stupid face, I'm right here with you and it's all going to be okay. Just breathe, yeah? Just breathe with me a little bit. I'm so worried about you, Rory, I just want you to be alright. I want you to look at me again and see me, really see me. I can't take this, Rory, because seeing you like this makes me want to die. I would die for you, you know that. I'll do whatever it takes to make you okay..."

His head fell back against her shoulder, his good leg still kicking feebly, his hands still clenching in the sheets. The Doctor caught River's eye, quirked his eyebrow questioningly. She offered a short nod. Amy trailed a line of soft kisses from Rory's hairline to his cheek, stroked his hair, her voice lowering to a murmur. His head rolled towards her, as if he could finally hear and acknowledge her on some primal level. She hugged him fiercely, her eyes bright.

"I've got you, I've got you. Please breathe, Rory, please try for me... You'll feel better soon, I promise. Shh, it's Amy, it's Amy. I'm here..."

She glanced up, gestured to the Doctor with a flick of her eyes. Silently, the Doctor took the needle from River and moved forwards, felt for a vein on the inside of Rory's arm. Rory jerked, twisted his face into Amy's neck, moaned. Amy held him tightly kissed him again.

"It's okay, it's okay, it'll hurt just for a second. Just a second, I promise. And then it'll feel better, all better. Just trust me."

Slowly, cautiously, the Doctor slid the needle into Rory's skin. Rory shuddered, and then sucked in a hard, shaky breath. Amy rested her cheek against his hair and stroked his cheek with her fingertips, as if she didn't even notice his vice-like grip on her arm. The Doctor emptied the contents of the syringe into Rory's veins and then withdrew it in one fluid movement. Rory twitched, some of the tension already beginning to ebb out of his body, his breathing slowing, his stiff legs dropping. Amy rubbed his arm as he relaxed against her, effectively pinning her to the headboard. His dry lips parted.

_"Amy..."_

She kissed his forehead lightly in response, closed her eyes. And then he was still at last, his legs spread-eagled mid-struggle, his lax hand still wrapped around hers, his face calm. Watching their intertwined limbs, the Doctor couldn't help but feel he was intruding on something private, something intimate between them and them only. Behind him, he heard River let out a sigh of relief.

"Well done, Amy," she murmured.

"Yes." The Doctor smiled as Amy's eyes opened and focussed on his. "Yes. Very good, Amelia Pond. Very good."

Amy's tearful gaze held his own for a few long moments. Then her shoulders heaved in a slow sigh and she bent her head to Rory's, wrapping her arms around him as if she would never let go again.

* * *

><p>River replaced the first aid box in its place beneath the panels of the TARDIS' control room floor and stood back, stretching out the kinks in her back as she rose. She brushed at the blood on her hands with a flicker of revulsion. The luminous hands of her watch read a time far later than she cared to read; to her right the cool, soft whisper of a grey dawn showed through the TARDIS' heavy doors, which stood ajar. The seasons would have come full circle by now, and summer would be beginning again. The trees would be blossoming, the flowers pushing their way upwards towards the sky, the ice on the streams breaking to allow fast-flowing rivers to dart free. It would be beautiful to watch. But now, River's eyes were tired and her skin felt old and her mouth tasted stale, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed and sleep.<p>

She had left Rory and Amy after administering Rory's final dose of Anti Bio-Electron Shock medication. Thanks to the fast-acting treatments the Doctor had accumulated over the years the bruises on his face and ribs were already fading, although the burns on his wrist would take a little longer. She and the Doctor had collaboratively managed to set his leg well enough - although he would walk with a limp for a few months, there would be little long term damage. The Doctor had muttered something about visiting one of the more developed clinics on Zyklana, just to be sure all was well. The Doctor himself had slipped away an hour or so before. River had allowed him to, very aware of the thoughts that were circling behind his furrowed brow and his sharply downturned mouth.

She left Amy lying on her front beside Rory, one arm slung across his now-bare chest. Her face remained lined with worry even in sleep, turned into his shoulder, her hand closed over his arm as if to ensure he would remain beside her. Her red hair splayed across the pillow in a ragged fan, a sharp contrast with his pale skin, still slightly bruised in some places. But his face was relaxed, his breathing finally even, his eyes no longer roving desperately beneath their lids. They had made some progress for now, at least, although she didn't doubt that there would be some serious mental trauma to deal with over the next few days... that and the apparent guilt that was still lingering on Amy's conscience. Though the event had in no way been her fault - in River Song's perception at least - Amy still held that haunted, distraught look that worried River immensely. She could only hope that the couple sorted out whatever was wrong soon.

Her eyes strayed once more to the ajar doors of the TARDIS, and she moved towards them. Her feet clanked gently on the metal floor, an intrusion on the prevailing, thick silence. She reached the door and pushed it open.

Outside, the Doctor stood a few paces away from his TARDIS gazing out into the trees. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, his shoulders straight, his head uplifted to gaze up at the brightening sky. Small clusters of butterflies were wheeling in the golden air, surging and falling, racing and diving. And even though he had his back turned, she could tell that he was smiling that small, sad smile that always crossed his face when things like this happened. The smile that thanked fate for sparing lives, but reminded him simultaneously that such horrible events had happened before, would happen again... In the folds of his jacket she could read a night spent worrying and wondering, in the firm weight of his stance she could see a silent promise that it would not happen again. That he would not let it happen again... even though he could not control the world, could not control others, could not stop the mountains from moving...

"Are you alright, River?"

His voice was quiet, barely breaching the peace of the morning. River smirked, unaware that he had been studying her just as much as she had him.

"Yes. Are you, sweetie?"

A slow breath. A shrugging of his shoulders, pulling his suit straight. And when he turned to face her his face was completely composed, completely clear of fear.

"Yes," he said calmly. He smiled at her. "We should get some sleep. We'll leave in a few hours."

"There's no need, we could take a breather."

"No. No, we'll leave today."

And in that simple remark lay everything he felt, wrapped up in a five short words. River offered him a crooked smile before turning and heading back into the darkness and stillness of the TARDIS, leaving him to his own musings. And despite what he had just said, he remained outside to watch the morning arrive.

* * *

><p>When Rory awoke it was to the hard pounding of his own heart and the cool, clammy sensation of sweat on his skin. He lay staring at the ceiling above him, listening to the soft hum of the walls that suggested the TARDIS was in motion and the quiet breaths of the body beside him, fighting the urge to cry with sheer relief. He couldn't quite believe it, half expecting the world around him to melt away into snow and ice, certain he was having some wonderful illusion... but no, he had a vague memory of hot hands on his skin, of being lifted, of being wrapped in warmth and being spoken to by a voice that made him breathe again...<p>

_"I've got you... Shh, it's Amy... I'm here..."_

He turned his head, flinching at the stabbing pain that still lingered at the back of his skull, and saw with a swell of overwhelming happiness Amy's face inches from his own. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, opened them. She was still there. She was real. It was all real.

It was all _over._

Tears threatened once more and he fought them back with as much strength as he could muster. His body felt weak and shaky, which worried him, but he could no longer feel any real pain. He tried moving his injured leg, found that he could not, gave in. He lifted a hand to press lightly on his side, felt a dull ache. He could see damp bandages wrapped around his wrists, hiding the burns. The sight of them brought the memory of that hideous torture crashing back to him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on breathing deeply until the fear ebbed away.

_"It's alright..."_

He focussed on the ceiling once more, finding a strange kind of serenity in its blankness. The familiarity of the room chased away the cobwebbed memories of the Offspring still clinging to his mind.

_"I'm right here with you, and it's all going to be okay..."_

Amy's hand suddenly moved across his chest, closed into a small fist. He turned his head towards her, found her two bright eyes staring into his. He held the connection, hardly daring to breathe should she disappear.

"Rory."

She murmured his name like a prayer, skating her fingertips over his jaw. He leant into her touch, revelling in it. She leant forwards and pressed her lips lightly against his, her sweet taste sending waves of tinging pleasure through his tired body. _Now this,_ he thought dazedly, _is something she definitely doesn't do with the Doctor._

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered against his cheek.

He shook his head, wincing at the movement, only able to utter, "Me too."

Her shoulders trembled, and he realised with a jolt that she was starting to cry. He instinctively reached out to comfort her, gasped as his ribs and throbbing head protested. He hated seeing her cry. Watching her cry made his own heart fold in on itself and his stomach tighten.

"Wos' wrong?" he croaked, furious at how weak his voice was. He could think perfectly clearly, yet when he tried to speak or move his body caved like a tower of cards. She caught at his sluggish arms, pushing him down, forcing him to lie still.

"Shh, it's okay..."

"W-What?" he repeated, fixing her with a glare. "Amy... y'cryin."

She shook her head helplessly. "I'm crying because... because I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Rory, I'm... I didn't mean for any of this to happen..."

"Not y'fault..."

"Of course it was."

He didn't have enough energy to reply. He blinked slowly, simply taking in her long hair and her clear skin and her long, slender fingers. He wanted to hug her, but he knew that he would never make it upright. Instead he reached for her hand, curled his fingers around it. Her breath hitched in another sob.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

He shook his head again. "Stop it."

"No!" Her fiery, defiant temper was back, and it made him grin as he'd thought he never would again as she stared back at him. "No, Rory. I love you so much, and it's as if sometimes I... I don't know, I forget just how much, or I forget your feelings, and I get swept up in... in... I don't know..." She paused, biting her lip. "Rory... Can you ever forgive me?"

He was in parts. Half of him was reeling from what he had just heard Amy confess, the other was reeling from her apology and final question. He squeezed her hand, his head spinning from the exhaustion of talking, ready to fall back to sleep. Still, he forced himself to make the next words he uttered perfectly clear.

"I love you Amy Pond. I will always... w-wait for you, no matter... how long it takes."

Despite his aching bones and his shattered leg and his searing head, as Amy threw herself forwards to hug him tightly, Rory would have been happy to spend an eternity in that single moment. His hand in her long hair and his arm around her waist, and her lips pressed to his cheek... Yes. In that moment, he could have spent a lifetime, Doctor or no Doctor.

**The End.**

**Not a great ending, but this story definitely needed one. Hope you all enjoyed, thanks for bearing with me while I made you all wait so long... again, sorry!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


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